“The clouds are moving,” my student announced.
“I am sure the birds can see the clouds are moving faster today,” another student shared.
“I rarely look up,” I admitted.
You often learn something when you look at the world from a child’s point of view.
I wrote a poem about the experience.
CLOUDS
They drift gently
Like candy floss
Up above my head
The delicate light blue
Sitting quietly
Watching in a daze
I knew
This would happen again
I would
Perch here and watch
Stare at the floating cotton
Gliding secretly above
Why did I never do this?
In the busy-ness of the days
I will
Stop
And
Look
Up Above.
GIFTS 
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