Clouds

I love photographs of gentle clouds, dreamy, wistful, always on their way, and often wish to be among them, light-hearted, carefree, flying.

I love, I wish, I am...

Then it's back to ground eventually, where I belong, to long for those clouds, those places faraway without earthly souls and grief, in reprieve.

P.S.: There is an empyreal beauty in longing for things beyond one's reach.