Clouds

 Drifting above in the starless firmament,
A kaleidoscopic carnival of fluffy segments,
Cotton candy swirls and mists splintered with glowing orange passing on by,
Tremendous volumes enveloping any appreciating spectator’s eye,
Levitating masses, connected and stretched for miles ahead,
Yet so easily detached from one another.
A blurred collection of serenity and ordered chaos.

 Each floating polyehdron lost within their own sphere of dust and dirt,
Dealing with incomprehensible internal storms,
Saddled with the tons of air pushing down on them and their scars,
Charging down a highway of the stars,
Until they ultimately succumbed to the pressure and rend asunder,
An outburst of rain and unequivocal thunder.

 In an atmosphere marked by gloom,
The focus remained on their silver linings,
And the outward glow that seemed to permeate from an apparent wellspring of happiness,
For a display of anything less,
Even a speck of the dirt that plagued their existence,
Signified a hint of vulnerability and weakness.

Among such a shifting orchestra of the heavens,
Each member played their part of this soulful melody,
Never any time for the seldom soliloquy,
Swarms facing their own daily troubles, 
As complex as their fractal nature,
Pent-up, trapped, repressed, restrained within,
Unbeknownst to the rest of the clouds