Eye Level With The Clouds

When you are eye level with the clouds
    You can see the clouds true shape
    And you can tell their underneath from their other sides.

When you are eye level with the clouds
    You see that all clouds are white.
    But some become so thick, so tall, so overwhelming
        That they shadow themselves,
        Their color distorts
        And blackens.
    They no longer resemble their original self,
        They lose their original purity
        And become black,
        Dimming others.
    Until they become so full of themselves that they spill out onto the land.

When you are eye level with the clouds
    A little height is no height at all.
    A few inches or even a few feet of difference
    Is invisible from the heavens.
        A five-story building differs little
        From one that is seventy-seven.

    The higher you go, the wider the view and the less you see.
        Everyone can see a cloud,
        But a cloud can’t see down through your open window.

    Fortunately God doesn’t take “on high” too literal,
    The spiritual isn’t so spatial,
    For nothing is as disappointing as an aerial view of a cathedral.
        Though built to be towering and majestic
        A steeple turns into a spec
        A dome becomes a circle
        And a vaulted ceiling becomes flat.
    After all, it was really built to impress those confined to the ground.