A Cloud, A Friend

I stare up at the sky,

and wonder,

what does it feel like to be a cloud?

How would you feel,

when your friends cried,

and the world got covered in tears?

Would you want the sun to shine,

or would you do your best to block it?

Would you be a stormy,

dark,

sad cloud?

Or a good one?

One that turns into shapes that make people smile,

one that moves slowly across the universe,

making it seem like they are waiting for you to follow.

Would you be a big cloud,

who is nice but wants to be known,

or a small one,

who may be shy but still at home?

I know what kind of cloud I would want to be.

I would want to be a white cloud, 

but with some darker areas.

I would want to let the sunshine through,

except for when the world needs rain.

I would move slowly, 

peacefully,

unless I need to move fast.

Clouds may seem simple,  

they may seem plain,

but if there are humans that can be whatever they want,

there are clouds that can, too.

I think it would be nice to be a cloud.

Floating in the wind,

hovering above,

almost like they are watching over us.

We each have our own cloud.

Whether it's simple or extravagant.

We don't own them,

and they don't own us.

Just two buddies, 

communicating through the air,

through our breaths,

through our words,

through our passion.

My cloud.

Happy clouds.