I had a conversation with a cloud once.
She was big, and bright, and beautiful and fluffy
Her name was Sophie.
I watched her swim gently in the deepest of the bluest skies
So gently, I thought she was painted there
And that I would always see her
Whenever I looked up.
I, long, brown, delightful, and limber
Lay comfortably in a field of the greenest grass
So comfortably, she thought that I, too, was painted there
And that this was where I belonged
And where I had always been.
She said: You look well.
I said: I thought the same of you. Are you headed somewhere?
She replied: I might be, but I haven't the slightest idea where.
I said: Oh me too, you see? I'm just passing. I'm eager to see where I end up.
We cheered to freedom.