Sometimes my brain
feels overcrowded.
Like, thereβs not enough space
for all my thoughts to process.
Then one word emerges
from the muck.
Spaciousness.
My busy thoughts pause-
It does exist.
Spaciousness.
Between the time you were born
and the person youβve become.
Between the first dark cloud
of a storm and the last drop of rain.
Between each breath I take,
as I slow down to watch
clouds gracefully float past.
Tag: clouds
Simply Sunday
Have you ever noticed
how certain clouds
appear so put together?
Smooth and round,
every particle in place.
Gleaming against their
bright, blue background.
Gliding gracefully
through the day.
And then there are the others.
Honestly, I think they
outnumber the first.
Frazzled, edges a little rough.
Looks like they survived
a tornado or hurricane.
Typically draws a second look.
Color is the same, as is
their current backdrop.
Particles are the same, only shifted.
Perhaps they need a
gentle breeze, accompanied
by a genuine smile.
That is, if clouds
respond to smiles.
It’s a Stretch
Rushing out the door,
I noticed my sweet, silly cat
stretched out like a pile of
pulled-apart cotton balls.
Driving to work,
I saw a once fluffy cloud
rolled out across the blue sky.
Reminded me of my cat.
Perhaps I need to unroll, stretch.
Not just my body, but also
my head and my heart.
Remaining too long
curled in a fetal position,
Though somewhat comforting,
is counterproductive.
Touch my toes.
Reach my hands skyward.
Lie flat on my back, eyes closed.
Smile or cry, whichever is needed.
Smile and cry at the same time.
Thatβs my favorite.
Ask for forgiveness.
Say Iβm sorry.
Say I love you.
Slow down and stretch.
Counterintuitive
Not a cloud in the sky.
Yet, a heavy haze
held the morning.
Unhelpful. Especially when
my brain also feels foggy.
If only I were still sleeping.
However, sleep is not
a likely solution.
There is rarely a
single solution anyway.
Some days are just like this.
My heart is grateful for
family and friends.
My head is unsure how
to process the melancholy.
Seems counterintuitive
to wish for a cloud.
But if a fluffy cloud means
A lifted haze
A bluer sky
A spark of imagination
Then I will keep searching.
Looking out every time
I pass a window.
Simply Sunday
A Lesson in Comparison
I have never seen
a blue so pale, barely blue.
Blurring the lines
between sky and cloud.
Still blue, only subdued.
The mood emanating from
those muted hues
is quite opposite from
this morning’s bird songs.
Playful conversations
I could only observe,
no matter how closely
I listened. Smile-inducing,
even without understanding.
Perhaps there’s a lesson
in the comparison.
Pale blue-an accurate description
of my current mood.
Playful conversations-an indication
of future possibilities.
An intriguing coexistence.
Where am I?
Above or below, a scene unfolds.
Questions are a necessity.
Are those white frothy peaks
On wind-tossed waters?
Is that a tundra covered in snow?
Are those mountains in the distance?
Or simply a bank of storm clouds?
I see them from below almost every day.
Viewing from above offers new perspectives.
It requires engineering and mechanics.
Logic combined with wonder and awe.
Below, I stand firmly on the ground.
Above, I fly, unsure of my place.
Above or below, a scene unfolds.
Questions are a necessity.


Somewhere over the PNW. ππ€βοΈ
Straight Ahead
It wasnβt supposed to rain.
But when I stepped outside,
raindrops landed on my head,
my face and my arms.
They dried almost as quickly as they fell.
Strange, no gray clouds in sight.
Looking straight ahead, while
turning a 360-degree radius,
there was a mix of
bright blue,
fluffy white,
and daylight.
Where was the gray?
Directly overhead.
I suddenly felt like a cartoon character.
You know the one.
Aimlessly lumbering across a happy scene,
accompanied by a single rain cloud.
Itβs curious, today is clear and sunny.
And I miss the raindrops.
Simply Sunday
Constantly interrupted sleep,
a cycle of words and phrases
repeating and evolving
between quiet moments.
When morning came,
the words were gone.
As if they’d never crossed my mind.
Just as I’d put aside
any attempt at recovery,
a beautiful blank slate appeared.
Its location? A pleasant surprise.
A page of blue surrounded
by white clouds and sunshine
I think my day just wrote itself.

Lingering Light
A heart-shaped cloud
Usually prompts a smile
But not that day-
That day, the cloud was gray-
A symbol of grief
A reflection of the hurt
Many suffer, often in silence-
The sky was silent, too
Unlike recent days of rain,
Thunder, and lightning-
As if now holding
Its breath while
The grieving heart
Cautiously passed by
Light remained-
Not bright, but soft and warm-
Like a lamp lit
In the corner of a room
Quietly lingering
Offering comfort
Holding space for healing
Steady
The entire sky was white
A covering of wisdom
Over travelers below-
I canβt speak for others,
But I was hoping for sunshine-
Not a lesson
In patience
While driving to work
In the rain-
It wasn’t a heavy rain
Just steady, and I must admit,
Peaceful-
For a moment, I pictured
Myself happily walking
In the gentle rain-
The thought made me chuckle
Suddenly, I felt calm
Thankful for rainy lessons
Sent from the wisest of clouds
On a cool Spring morning-
Perhaps the Sun will shine tomorrow
