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. 

 

Remove Thyself ...

"Clouds come floating into my life,

no longer to carry rain or usher storm,

but to add color to my sunset sky."

Rabindranath Tagore

When high in the Smokey Mountains, my sister cried with her head extended from the car window. She had been anxiously awaiting the opportunity for my father to drive through a cloud so she could feel the soft cotton texture across her face.  To her dismay, there was only air.

In one of Shirley MacLaine's numerous books, she encourages the reader to look up at the sky and choose a cloud that pleases the eye.  The reader is to single out this cloud, thank it for its beauty and ask if it would disappear from the sky.  With eyes glued, the reader then waits for the magic to begin.

In my childhood, I would spread out in the grass next to my favorite tree and examine the passing accumulation of clouds.  I would watch them shift and take on differing shapes or just melt away in the sky.  Only once, as an adult, did I reverently ask a cloud to disappear.  I held my breath and within  five minutes, the cloud simply went away.  I felt so ashamed for asking a beautiful cloud to vanish I cried.  I vowed never to be so insensitive to any of the beauty in  nature.  It is all as it should be and I will respect the privilege of being an adorning observer.

Look Up to the Sky

"Clouds come floating into my life,

no longer to carry rain or usher a storm,

but to add color to my sunset sky."

Rabindranath Tagore

Personal perception impacts the beauty of the sky.  Our imagination plays games, arranging the clouds in numerous configurations.  Clouds are graceful, comforting, or an imaginary pillow to float upon.  

As they gently float across the sky, clouds remind us that all things come to pass.  With their gentle floating, they demonstrate how to keep moving.  Cloud after cloud encourages a person to let go as there is more to come.

A blue sky filled with clouds becomes an artist's palette.  We can see a cow's face, a bird, or a strange deformed eye within seconds of each other.  Clouds speak volumes, but too seldom do people look up to the sky.