It's a peaceful day, and there's something in the clouds by Dani'sCorner

There Is Something in The Clouds

I walked out of my home today, the golden hour coloring the sky with an orange to purple hue that always presented an otherworldly presence to an otherwise mundane life. The cool breeze rushed by my skin, never stopping to grace me with its presence long enough to provide the selfish comfort I desire from the heavy sensation of heat. Still, that too brings a sense of completion to the scene in front of me. The grass at my feet grows, spilling like an ocean towards the rocky shore; birds fly by with little care, following the path through the world only they know.

It’s peaceful, normal, the day is almost complete.

And there’s something in the clouds.

I didn’t notice it at first, a strange thing, as usually I find myself noting the smallest of details even when I don’t intend to. My gaze naturally shifts to the sky, and before it came into my vision, it was a sky like every other. Perhaps it was hiding from me, perhaps I couldn’t comprehend it at first, because what a ridiculous thought to have.

There’s something in the clouds

What does that even mean? What could I possibly be looking at that would give me such a thought? It wasn’t that there was a bird in the sky, nor some sort of weird shape that resembled something comprehensible. My eyes fixated on a point amongst the growing clouds that continued to shine with a golden gradient, and saw something that I could not personally describe. It wasn’t a creature, or anything so mystical, it was just…something.

The more I stared at it, as if nothing else but this specific point in the clouds was real, I felt the corners of my vision growing darker. The world around me grew a dark purple hue, yet the singular point where the unknown sat amongst the clouds remained bright, captivating even. With a tilt of my head, I could rationalize it as a…hand, perhaps? Of some kind? But tilting in the opposite direction, I saw the image of a person. A person? A figure ascending, yet seemingly stagnant, as if its ascension had been paused and forced to remain stagnant. If that was the case, was this some sort of divine demonstration? Was I an eye amongst many, currently looking upon this figure in some sort of eternal judgment?

I seem to have a lot of questions whilst refusing to divert my eyes from whatever I am looking at. Maybe it’s my own way of distracting myself from the much more pertinent and clear conclusion that I am rapidly losing my mind. What’s even happening right now? My breath catches in my throat as my vision blurs, I don’t even know the last time I blinked. Tears are forming in my eyes and it burns…oh God it burns. Is this God? Have you reached from your high throne to pluck me from the roots that have sprouted whatever I am? The hand grows, or at least I want to call it one, it grows and reaches and it reaches for me. I almost pray it's a hand, because if it is something so unimaginable, so beyond what something as small as me could process as real…God…

The thing that traps me in it’s presence, are you a hand reaching out to save me from the monotony of a life I have done all but throw away in desire for something more; or are you the vision of my future, of failed ascension amongst a blinding light that seems so beautiful from afar, but amidst the sea of grey is nothing but a restricting stage to present the results of grandiose shortcomings? It burns so much now. I’m scared. I’m so scared and I can’t look away and yet I don’t even know. How could I know? How could I ever know? I’ve done so much to know and learn and understand and now I stand at the edge of all I thought could be possible and something, something, stands above me as evidence that I was just another fool. There is so much I will never know, so much I can never comprehend. And the overwhelming unknown looks back at me and it laughs because it knows I will never be enough to grasp an ounce of what it could be, of what it has been and what it will be. And I am a fool.

And I weep. 

I weep.

I reach.

And then it’s gone.

…

I walked out of my home today.

The golden hour colored the sky with an orange to purple hue that always presented an otherworldly presence to an otherwise mundane life.

The cool breeze rushed by my skin.

The heat is a punishment.

The scene in front of me feels complete.

The grass grows.

The birds fly.

The sky closes, and the golden hue is quickly replaced by a dark blue, as if it was never there.

It’s peaceful.

And there was something in the clouds.

And I…am nothing.

{ Art and Story by me! Pixel filter for art done with (https://pixel-converter.ameniwa.com/) [A non-Ai tool, no worries!] }

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