“Clouds”

Transient, transforming, translucent clouds, billow along with our dreams. They lift our spirits with vague notions, of the magic that we forget we know. Vast sights of the sky, only hint at the endlessness.

Clouds whisper, housing spears of sunlight. This very moment is that which we manifested in the past. They remind us to feel this in our sternum. The churning radiance of realization lives here.

Clouds speak to us in colors while weighted with wonder and grounding. Settle in, they say. Hold tight and hold your fellow dreamers at heart. Make soup and be still, be warm.

WIth raised voices, clouds yell to us. Move quickly, they rain, move anyway and delight in the discomfort by way of gratitude. We have all that we need. Know this and extend in generous acts of kindness.

— Thea Finnel