Reshuffling

When all the world falls apart
And reshuffles in a millisecond
What do you do, as you take
The last breath in, the last breath out
In the moment of recreation,
To keep yourself from shaking, breaking and deforming? 

 
I think of floating clouds
Swept sideways by passing winds
Slowly deforming, I hear some say "to better shapes than before".
So we await, eyes glued on floating clouds
With expectations slithering in
To see a shape better than the one before,
All the while whoever the Maker of this home
Of inimitable beings
Looks down praising her/himself
For keeping the distance between sky and earth.