The clouds sing songs in winds so high,

they carry words that never die.

They hum the tunes of distant lands,

of love once lost, of hearts in hands.

Their melodies are soft, like sighs,

A lullaby beneath the skies.

In their music, there is a call,

To rise again after every fall.

Their voices drift through mist and rain,

reminding us to love the pain.

For in the hurt, the heart will grow,

and in the rain, new seeds will sow.