Print #51: Face Of Clouds

Gently appearing through the clouds is a face of a man. His eyes are deep and contemplative. The trance-like quality of this artwork stretches the boundary between imagination and reality.

Inspirational Poems

Your Face In The Clouds

I saw your face in the clouds one day;
wise, thoughtful and smiling!

I saw you face from far away crossed by a jet’s vapor trail
so what can one say?

An angel, a blessing, a curse or despair?
I know full well that no one will remember or care.

I saw your face in the clouds that vanished into the air,
without a word to say!

A Face in the Clouds

You passed me by,
on a busy, city street,
our eyes meet,
and a moment's life and love,
is lived in a glance.

Yet like a face in the clouds,
one second you were there,
and then you were gone.

And I wonder,
at that random chance of nature,
that could create,
such a moment's beauty.

I wonder at that vision
of your face,
which still lingers in my mind,
like a half-remembered dream.

I wonder what would have happened,
had we stopped and said hello.
introduced our lives to the other.
Yet you are destined to remain,
these unanswered questions.

For like a face in the clouds,
one second you were there,
and then you were gone.

One second you were there,
and then you were gone,

One second you were there,
and then you were gone...

By From Nick Houvras

A Face In The Clouds

I looked towards the clouds today
and for a moment saw your face
And wondered just were you have gone
with a hope it's a better place
By Atousa

Love And Clouds Are The Same

One moonlit night I thought of clouds
I waited long to see
the morning, but the sky that came
brought no clouds for me.

Only a cotton thread did blur
the edges of my fist;
But I am not yet strong enough
to worship distant mist.

An empty sky is safe because
nothingness can only stay.
When joy arrives in clouds I fear
they’ll fade, or glide away

By Susan Orey

Mountain Clouds

Clouds cling and mist the mountain tops
the trees still cool and wanting
the green has failed to creep nonstop
there, winter’s still ‘a haunting..

have they lowered and come to stay
those mallow denizens of the sky
to crouch so low and envelope and play
and flow and creep and glide?..

the swirl grows deep upon the crest
kissed by fine white wisps
the raven, clouded in their nests
are blinded by the mist..

high mountain roads that disappear
their private world remains
evaporating views - the clouds so near
ingulfed by pelting rains..

the white of clouds and blossoms meet
fog instills the orchards ground
the sight confounds the mind to greet
whirling mist that settles ’round..

scudding clouds that hide the ridge
and dip down valleys gorge
wander over fields and ledge
that stonewalls love to forge..

a dancing ceiling of clouds so gray
with rain remains a promise’d ride
sunlight’s shafts a glimpse for May
but now, the mountain’s clouds, a tide..

By Cynthia Stamps.