Poetry by Tracy Marks

A Passing of Clouds

copyright 1976 by Tracy Marks


As I watch the splinters of light emerge then disappear as clouds conceal the sun, I begin to understand the lesson of waiting. The passing of clouds is beyond my control; I can only respond.

Like the clouds, my many selves pass over me, changing interminably – creative writer, star, playful sprite, wallflower, loner, loyal friend, sensual woman, hungry child, basket case, spiritual seeker, voracious reader, attention grabber, crazy lady, woman in love, conscientious worker, frightened deer, hibernating bear, inspiring teacher, intuitive thinker, wisdom seeker, appreciator of beauty, contributor to society.

As each cloud is an integral part of the sky, each of my selves is an integral part of me. Each one passes over me and makes room for another as long as I don't cling to it because I value it much more than another part, or fight it because I reject the qualities it embodies.

Who then am I? I am the one who watches the passing of clouds.





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