I’ve never thought about how my life is like a cloud, but the immediate response I have is that it’s always changing. Sometimes, it’s so full of activity, like a puffy cumulus cloud. And sometimes, it’s thin and feels too stretched out – too taut.
There are days when my cloud is streaked with gray and then gloom descends – stopping me from being productive at all. And there are days when my cloud is full of lightning bolts and threatens a storm. But like a sudden summer thunderstorm, it is often brief, making way for a sunny day.
And then there are times when the wind carries my cloud away along with all the other clouds in the sky. On these days, I almost feel myself disappearing. I reach out, but can find no anchor to keep myself from drifting away.
My life is like a cloud – beautiful, lonely, full of promise. I drift, float, glide, wander on a field of blue – hoping to catch a glimpse of what I might miss if my feet were firmly planted on the ground.