The Cloud Factory

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And some days, like today, it is this…

And some days, like today, it is this…

Other days it is more like this…

Other days it is more like this…

Some days I wake up and feel like this…

Some days I wake up and feel like this…

What happens next?

What happens next?

Is it this?

Is it this?

Or possibly this?

Or possibly this?

Could be this…

Could be this…

Or even this?

Or even this?

But does it all lead to this?

But does it all lead to this?

Love Sonnet XVII

-one of my favorite poems.  The last two lines make me think of that poem.
by Pablo Neruda I do not love you as if you were a salt rose, or topaz
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
So I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.