They are the only ones who inspire me. I am the only one who admires them. A thousand rolling clouds with a playful personality, but sensitive like me. A thousand rolling clouds hang above me and other children not like me. A thousand clouds threatening the light of the sun. From the car window I can see them, but the people don’t even stop to wonder.
Their power is silent. They send for rain to feed the earth. They grow bigger, and they go thinner, and they linger between the mountains and avoid the deserts filled with sadness, and it will release the tears collected from around the world, down onto the city. Love, love, love the clouds that hold the world’s secrets. They love.
When I am too sad and too afraid to keep loving, when I’ve lost the drive to fight and give in, it is then that I look up at the clouds. There is no where else I’d rather look. A thousand who grew despite the drought. A thousand who create pictures for the children to spy. A thousand whose selflessness protected us all.