Clouds Falling

31 Jul

Round and round it goes, and where it stops…well, it doesn’t. It never stops the eternal cycle of transformation. What you’re looking at is a cloud reflection in a puddle of wonderful rain. Cloud. Rain. It’s all the same. It just changes names. The cloud I see in the morning sky is going to churn for a little while, and then it’s going to fall out of the sky onto my head, all over my just-washed car, onto the potted plants struggling with thirst, onto the deer and coyotes roaming the mountainside, onto all living things that cannot survive without a drink. Onto the earth that will become a ball of dust without the silver droplets of cloud. Everything is connected. Everything belongs. I know exactly what these words mean: earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. And I take great comfort in knowing that I am a small part of forever, forever in the mind, the heart, and the presence of the Creative Source I call God. Just now a little hummingbird paused at my window long enough to wink and wave, and in the distance a somber, gray cloud is turning pink right before my eyes. It’s going to be a good day. We, you and I, belong. Thanks be to God!

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