One in many.

Tiny, suspended, unbeknownst.

Awaking from a dream, rising from the vast dark.

One between many. Countless, in all directions. Apparently identical.

Together, we are the cloud. Shapeless, unbound, yet defined.

I am one, I am many, I am one and only, and alone.

The wind is my horse, carrying me and shaping us.

I watch little things from afar, and gaze at the immense up above, suspended in between worlds, dream and reality, earth and sky, life and death.

I roam seemingly without a destination, a constant permutation. I gather the thoughts of men and shape their fantasies.

Who decides when the time comes? What triggers the inescapable? Unfathomable chain of events.

We encounter our fate in a moment. We collapse as one, remembering we have weight too. Unescapable, frightening, exciting, dreadful, joyful, life bringer, devastating, warm, cold.

In that moment verticality becomes my nature. Gravity is a tight steel rope flinging me down. I stretch, embodying dynamics.

You cannot see me coming, yet you cannot ignore me. We are everywhere, filling the air, thousand needles unsuccesfully trying to pierce the world.

I fall for an eternity, my time marked by the lightning. An alien landscape, my next destination, another life, another step in this perpetual cycle of death and rebirth.

Buildings, roads, traffic lights, people, animals, grass, rocks, even umbrellas. Suddenly, we are everywhere. We coat everything in every direction, we seep through, we impregnate.

We sing as a choir. We sing to a secret music only few can discern. And even fewer dance to it.