Prints

Each soul a cloud drifting
through life's sky,
unique, temporal,
crafted by the winds and weather
that blow across one's face.

Some leaving their marks
upon other's soil,
droplets of love's rain
or the deluge's in thunderous words.

One can forget how swiftly
any breeze can change direction
or that no billowy presence
last forever.

And that what truly remains
are the prints
left on those
whose memories
remember when a storm
brought more joy
than misery.