Those Clouds in Their Desert Sky

The clouds forgave me for my shortcomings and unrealized dreams from their heights, and they did so without the condescension one might expect from someone or some thing of their station or stature.  They acknowledged my temporal eternity and honored my striving.  They hung up there in their desert afternoon in their high lightness and form.  I gazed beyond the queen-palms’ efforts at obscuring their slow dance and noticed they were standing with an earthly stillness in that solitary spot above me.  They moved not in their hanging there.  They were beyond the effects of any high-minded breeze or jet-stream, like a kite stuck in a dream that had reached its height on the wings of a storm and had then become frozen in its ever place.  So they forgave me, as I said, for the many things at which I have failed or fallen short…and for my impractical dreams and dreams and then.  They told me that it’s ok, whatever it is and was.  I can try again.  I can dedicate myself anew to my pursuits and responsibilities.  The dirt of the past is done.  They said this as they started to shift, though, so I’m not sure I can believe them.  They said this as their ethereal mass began to dissipate and their bodies became only mist with a thinness that belied their certainty.  Their substance was fleeting, as was my confidence in their sentiment.  I began to doubt their sincerity and wondered if I should believe in them or no.  I think this may have irritated them, for they started to move together again, to join again unto their parted selves.  Their furrowed brows darkened in their gathering and they moved with heavy footsteps.  I heard their grumbling in the distance and wondered if it was at me that they were scowling and then.  I had only doubted them.  I had only questioned them as they began to flee after being so sure of themselves, as they were so insistent that my soul was salvageable.  How could their confidence abide in me when their substance was so weak as to not be able to withstand the breeze?  How could I trust their assertions when they couldn’t keep it together long enough for me to look to them for support from that one moment to the next?  Their black and creasing brows continued to gather on that outside part of my periphery and the sky was soon dark in their brooding.  The sun was inching itself away from them as they came together again in a mass of anger and self-righteousness.  They fought in their glances and speared looks.  They hurled insults on the breeze and tossed the winds upwards and down again.  Dirt and detritus they caught in their absent hands and cast at my delicate skin and eyes, blinding and stinging me in their driven anger and storm.  I thought they would have been more objective in their protesting, in their dissertation on slight and ignorance, but they weren’t.  They were as insulted as I had originally been relieved in their forgiveness of my frail and human self.  Their scorn became arrow-like darts of light and flash; indeed, they were brazen and razor-sharp piercings of my skin and soul.  They flew in their rage and black cavernous hate and stacked themselves anvil-like in a column of evil air and haughty turbulence.  Had I seen through their façade when I doubted them?  Had I roused their ire when I questioned their ability to be steadfast in a storm?  I waited for them to get over themselves, those miserable black and gristly clouds, those temporal harbingers of fright and concern.  I stood there in defiance of their anger and shot my own scornful black-eyed gaze into their bursting souls and surprised myself and them.  They broke into tears and sobs of quaking anguish and sorrow as their black hearts emptied into the gray evening and they lightened in their form.  Moments and hours passed and the sun was down and the black was gone in the breeze of their passing.  Those vaporous beings that were so sure of themselves and angry in their confidence were indeed light and frail, just like me.  Their substance was mist and their temporal hearts were tender.  They possessed and gave life in their coming and going and asked only to be believed-in, to be trusted, and then, those clouds in their desert sky.

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