Floating palace

Dark clouds sat low in the sky

Just inches from the carpet of calm seas

A shot of bright light fell through the clouds

Like a table lamp in a dimly lit room

We were so close to tasting the sky

Yet it looked apocalyptic

The clouds licked dangerously on the mountain side

Touching...

Brushing...

Whispering its needs

The treeline was out of its reach

The mountaineer and even the bird could not see

For only the bare rock

covered in pitiless ice

received a stamp,

a footprint of proof,

that in the skies above the heavy clouds

sat a... well, what could it be?

For I have not the delight of witnessing.

Perhaps it was an idea

the fuzziness of a dream...

Perhaps it was from inside the minds of heavenly sinners

that a light bulb lit?