| September 14, 2018
The clouds tonight are different.
They’re like lint found in the dryer –
kinda tumbly. unassuming.
They’re content, not aiming higher.
Yesterday they were enormous,
like a mountain range of ice cream
Some strawberry, some vanilla,
all a very, very nice dream.
And on Sunday they were epic,
dark and brooding like Mussorgsky
or an ominous space vehicle
controlled by a Cyborgsky.
They’re unique and always changing
in their scale and in their color –
sometimes vigorous and vibrant,
sometimes just a little duller.
Just like everyone I know,
they have their moods, some bright, some darker.
They can hover with effect
or soar with wit, like Dorothy Parker.
All depends on outside sources
and internal machinations –
Some controllable, some not so,
Some are pleasures; some frustrations.
Best to float along and take in
everything that passes by you,
never critical or judging,
just accepting what’s beside you.
I love different, I love other,
in a cloud or human form.
I love something unexpected.
Something other than the norm.
Everyone has their own climate,
always changing, come what may.
In the very bestest sense,
looks like another cloudy day.
Clouds come floating into my life,
no longer to carry rain or usher storm,
but to add color to my sunset sky.
– Rabindranath Tagore
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