The Men Who Walk On Clouds

I see men who walk on clouds,
And plant their flag
On white hills and mountains.
Who stoop down to drink from rain,
As if from the purest fountain.
I see an elephant
As small as a mouse
Hiding among the grasses.
I see a water dragon on his back,
Floating, calm and placid.
I see fairies flying through the trees,
As fantastic creatures watch them,
Hidden in the leaves.
I see the things no one else sees,
I see men who walk on clouds.
I see the things
That go bump in the night.
I see the things
That fill dreams with fright.
I see the creatures,
Afraid of the light.
I hear voices of hidden things,
That some might call imaginary.
I hear many hidden sounds,
The same as I see men
Who walk on clouds.
I see the world how I wish it to be,
Real or imaginary,
I have no need for words like these.
An elephant hiding
Beneath the grass,
Fairies racing
Through the trees,
Men who lay their heads
On soft pillow mountains,
And drink from rain like fountains,
The voices and faces
Of formless things,
This is the world for me.
For there is nothing in this world

More beautiful to me,
Then the things we cannot see,
The wonders that are a mystery.

This is probably one of the poems I’m most proud of. With all the poems I’ve written, both for myself, for church, or for others, I’m incredibly proud of this one. I’m proud of my other poems, yes, but there was something I wanted to get across with this poem; Freedom. Freedom to think, freedom to feel, freedom to believe that there is still something good within the world. For me, poetry is where I am free to think and feel. Poetry is where I am free to question, or to not question. I can simply, look. I can look at the world how I wish to see it, hear the voices that others might not hear, and respond to them. In this world that claims to love freedom and a sense of individuality, we’re all too often told who and what we are, and in turn what we’re allowed to see as real. In my poetry, I can reject those ideas pressed upon me by my circumstances, society, or status, and be who I feel I was created to be. I can’t take credit for this freedom, though. I didn’t find it on my own. This gift is a God-given gift, one I never would have found had it not been for my church, those within it, and the God that I am in the church to worship. My hope in sharing my poems and stories is that maybe, just maybe, I can help lead others to the same freedom that I found.

Writing, for me, is a search for God. — Carson McCullers