Head In The Cloud?! Hmm…

I wish I could live on a floating cloud to see the world from a place high above

Drifting in what would seem like timeless bliss

Moving with the sway of the wind

Life below would seem like a silent movie

Silent but not slow

Fast and all rushed: a movie in fast motion

Crowded and full of traffic

What a rushed existence will be the view

With short moments of break in between

The crisp freshness and coolness of the air above

The serene view of the surrounding sky or even its hazy grey would be quieter than the clutter below.

Such a life of extremities we live below

Everything in excess, wealth, prestige, glamour and glitz

The fine life we call bliss

A fine line away from all the agony, stress, sadness and horrors that it comes packaged in

If we could see our existence from a place high above

We’d see our ‘homes’ for the concrete walls that it is

Our cities the cemented monsters its rising up to be

But if you’d peek a little more intensely

You’d see the relaxed pace our animals live

Free to exist at their pace

Then you’d  wonder, why we spend each day as if we running a race, yet we choose our life’s pace

It would be pleasurable this floating cloud of mine

No sounds of agonizing hooters blaring,  loud voices of useless banter and cowardly screams , thunderous sounds of music that seems to lose its pleasure in the high drone volume

Or nonstop clinking of metal or the drilling sounds of on-going constructions of yet  more levels for the rat race to come

For all this mental anguishes we’ve created,

we turn to the subtle sounds of nature as a source of relaxation: Soothing sounds of the waves, or the whales, birds chirping, trees rustling

It all becomes part of nature’s beckoning retreat on which we often spend vast amounts as a treat

I’d love to float over the sea instead and watch the calming hazy blue of the water

Gentle at times, wild at others but still beguiling, relaxing, intriguing…

My cloud is the perfect vessel through which to view the world, be a part of it, and yet escape it.

Alas though, the distinct sound of a car’s screeching brakes brings my head down from the clouds.

Back to the reality that surrounds: this automated bustle we call life.

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With days full of haze, clear skies keep me grounded!

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