In the Clouds

“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm,

but to add color to my sunset sky.”

Rabindranath Tagore

Looking up into the sky has been a treasured habit of mine. I gaze up to appreciate the massive artistic pallet where the Universe has used a delicate brush with gentle strokes. With ease, the clouds shift in formation, pleasing the eye. Then there are times troublesome dark clouds rumble across the sky, seemingly a foreboding of things yet to come.

Patterns continuously form shapes like animals, angels, or objects meant only for my eyes. I can ask a question and then patiently wait for an answer to appear in the sky. I am amazed by the example of how clouds can be severely congested, break apart and then regroup yet again. And is this not just like life?

I wonder if the birds would agree with me that there is great comfort in the freedom of floating in the clouds. And I am curious if these canopies of white fluff feel joy as they enter into sun filled horizons.  Maybe the clouds are a transport for peace being sent out into the world or even portals waiting for entry.