Wild life

What are we?
What are we when we look up at the clouds?
What are we when we are in the clouds?
What are we when we sleep in the clouds - as I am tonight?

As for this moment,
as I write this,
I feel their wondrous, wispy wind
whip my back
as I sit and wait for the sun to retire
behind the mountain I observe.

Today
I am refreshed
with the realization
that it's a wild, wild life
that we live.

Flight

I looked over and we were in the clouds-

249 others sat with me.   

And we were floating, ascending,

keeping pace with the fluffy masses,

billowing white and brilliant and beautiful. 

And we were together but apart.

And we were everything but nothing.

And we were frail and human, 

peering down upon the rows of

civilization that we humans have created,

with eyes entranced by the blue, 

the blue everywhere! shimmering 

a bright, brilliant hue, this seemingly 

endless blue, boastful and bewildering,

a proud blue, a true blue, 

the truest blue that the eye can see,

all the while, a mind filled with wonder,

wondering about the peculiarity of 

this transparent gas that we deem "air" 

that keeps us alive and afloat,

this substance unseen, yet sustaining,

essential, accessible, monumental..

thoughts racing wildly, thinking, the overarching theme:

We Are So Very Tiny. 

clouds, clouds 

clouds, clouds,
sing to me;
reveal to me
your bubbly shape
and magnificent form
of swirling cotton,
tenderly soft, yet
tantalizingly beautiful.

A glance upward
exposes a beauty unmatched.
The confidence of love
paired with
simple, charming grace is
exposed in your wispy fringe.
A feathery vulnerability,
a lovely affair
is artfully painted
in these downy
white masses
that float in
the mystical beyond.


clouds, clouds,
tell me,
what is your secret?

Am I going insane or unveiling the secrets that a tedious life keeps from us? 

There is a true, pure force within me.

I'm looking for it. Every day, always - I'm looking for it. That undeniable feeling of fulfillment and truth that comes and goes.

It comes when I see the sunlight, the clouds, the layered green trees manipulated by gusty spurts of air.

It comes when I peer into the eyes of a loved one. When I notice them - honestly and fully notice them for all that they are, and all that they are worth.

It comes in the stillness of sight, the beauty of the day, the dark of the night. My eyes are a portal to what I understand of the world, of what I comprehend and make sense of, they are my compass to discovery.

It comes when I realize that this true, pure force within in me, the same force that I long to feel, I long to hold on to, I long to make my life about, has a mirrored force (high above) that created all that surrounds me.

It feels a lot like love.

9 a.m. on a brilliant & sunny morning 

I get a certain, semi-indescribable infinite feeling when I look up.
The clouds - fluffy, white masses of hope - tell me that this life is exceptionally real.
It is right here, right now. It is fleeting.
Why do you think the picture-perfect clouds move so fast?
No beautiful and surreal moment lasts,
but that doesn't mean that the clouds won't float freely again on another day.
There will be more and more and more of these moments.
But quick - look now! Don't waste another day.
Because the days go on and on, sometimes they drag,
but the stark reality is that they will not last forever - only a lifetime.

A lifetime! - what an extensive period of time, right?
No, I think otherwise: life is faster than our minds can process, slipping from our tight grasp.
"Life, stay with me!" I plead and cry, but it always refuses.
It moves anyway, like the clouds - shifting, changing, fleeting, momentary.

The horrifying part of this thought, the part that nags the back of my mind (the part I recall in tears),
is that the clouds will go on even when I fly away.
When I am no longer a wayfarer friend to this earth, they will continue to float on,
shedding their beauty on the day, keeping the sun company.

Another, brighter thought, an easier recollection:
when I fly away, will I then become one with the clouds,
and know them greater than I have before?
Will I reside in their comforting shape and
in turn, bring comfort to those below, still present on earth?

They have an answer -
but they won't tell me.

We are but a breath,
a flash, a vapor.
We're here and gone;
often unknowing of when
we will disappear
into the clouds.

The brevity is real;
you will not survive this life.
It will bury you into the dust,
the mystery from which you came.

One day you, yes, you,
will cease to exist.
You will simply no longer be
alive and well on this planet earth.
The only world you've ever known
will be pulled out from
under your feet.

Death takes all prisoner.
None get out alive.

We are fleeting.

I am a collection
of all my thoughts;
I am a collection
of all my actions.
I am a collection
of all that have come before me
and all that surround me.

I am a collection
of beautiful mystery;
a piece of the great unknown
(which is life).
I am a collection and connection
to God, the God of Love
(however you see Him:
nature clouds, people,
doubt, exploration)

We are all a collection of one -
each being is our neighbor.
We each express stark individuality
but have a unifying connection
of life-giving Beauty
(I see Him as clouds)
living inside us.

Those days where
the sky doesn't
look (even slightly) real;
it's far too beautiful,
it's far too lovely
to be in plain sight
for the entire world.

Surely it's a painting
or an outcome of
my imagination.

On these days,
I find myself believing
in the power of
the great Unknown -
whatever is beyond
those clouds
is the answer.

I remember when life was
beautiful and alive and free
and I stared at the clouds
as a guide to my day
(You were up there).

How clouds are pleasing
to the eye, but not to the soul.
(Are You up there?)

I love my fervor,
my passion,
the God and the dad
that I knew so well
three months ago
on the living room floor.
How could this happen?

If only I could change the past
to be guided by the clouds again.

Beautiful words.

These are people of brightness,
illuminating the world around you,
extinguishing the darkness
by radiating light.

What if we all made a conscious effort to be this kind of person?
What if we believed in others so much that we begin to see truth in them?
What if the truth we notice in others is really pointing to something Greater?
What if we could benefit from loving others for who they are as much as they benefit from it?

The answer to all these questions:
The world would be an insanely different place.

The sky is beautiful.
The clouds look like home,
pleasant and inviting,
full of wonder, full of life.
Nothing is greater
than what my eyes see
when I look up.

So, my tiny wayfarer, look up,
and be inspired
and let your imagination soar
and let your dreams run free.
Let yourself feel and be alive
and think life through.
Create and invent this day
to match the beauty
of the sky.
(This is impossible -
but worth the attempt).

Let Dance Rule

To all flowers,
let beauty grow.
To all sunbeams,
let light overcome.
To all winds,
let uncertainty guide.
To all clouds,
let wandering ensure.
To all birds,
let wings propel.

And to all free souls,
let dance rule
in your hearts.