The clouds move like time, ever-changing, with wind, rain, and magnetic fields in the sky. Wrapped up, floating on a calm, sunny day, or lifted up and carried away so quickly to a new destination that time becomes a mystery after all. A mystery to us all. But knowing makes us realize we know nothing at all, or simply, that there remains something to wonder about. Oh, what a wonderful life. Wandering, smelling roses, watching the tiny little fluffs floating with the wind, carrying seeds of their origin. I suppose that is the speed of time, or the time of speed, which is yet to be. Let us wallow in this wonder, and stay curious in this never-ending cloud… A dream, or two, might carry us through, to the other side, where new beginnings begin, and endings have already gone. Gone with the wind.
Beautiful, so eloquently written