Above the Clouds

Above the clouds,
and yet below
horizon is far away.
Where lingers hope?
Amidst the crags of grey-hued rocks
cling odd bits of lichen and moss.
Scrabbling for toeholds
in cracks and in folds
of timeless spires
piercing the sky.
In trees digging deep
underneath old stone
claiming a space of their own;
in turn granting shelter
to those with four-legs
and those winging mid-air.
In the smell of the pines
and the wind off the snow;
in the sound of the trees when they gently moan.
In the scurryings through shrubs
and the twittering cheeps
in the stillness
in the silence
in the surety life keeps.
Where lingers hope?
In you and in me.