On We Go

There are no cloud formations,
Only clouds that remind you
Of formations in strong winds.

Stoicism, Buddhism,
What would their injunctions mean
Stripped of moral suggestions?

The body always flinches
From the abyss the mind names,
Mind that doesn’t give a damn,

Since it isn’t its abyss.
Finally the mind relents
And says, yes, we can pull back.

There really are some patterns
You can do something about.
You can be good. Pretty clouds.