The goose

Silence
That's all a cloud can hear
Tiny footsteps of a beetle
Her dream sounds

Whispers
Neither to be heard
Nor are laughter
or a scream
Drums, squeaking, toddler's cry

They are all foreign to a cloud

But sometimes
When currents are right
A goose shows up
It's heartbeat, breath, wings splash
Turn into a song
It stops and hangs in the air for a while
touches the air
Pumps the sky from below

All turns into a song and shows the cloud
Life