Echoes of Vapor

In the immense sky, a light soul,
the cloud shapes itself, mute, ephemeral.
But beneath the white veil, a slow sigh ascends,
for ancient forms that time carries away, in its fatal flight.
It was a winged dragon, a child’s dream,
a friendly face or a magic garden.
Now vanished into the blue, without farewell,
an ethereal shadow that the heart calls its own.
Thus it forms and dissolves, in a never-ending ballet,
creating new worlds, new divine shades.
But among the new clouds, an echo still cradles
the melancholy of what was, and nothing returns anymore.