puffy, soft, white, all abound
Tall, snowy, monk like steady
Sighing, gaping, soaking the moment
I wonder sometimes if they could converse with each other, we the lowly humans have decided that we are the living things, we have defined things, we claim to know it all, who knows, there is a realm beyond our inventions and discoveries, beyond our senses, maybe someone might just discover it someday, we conclude and hence I think we make a folly.
What is alive, what is living, who is a mortal, who is immortal, who communicates, who doesn’t?
What if thunder was a way of clouds hugging each other and shrieking out?!
What if an Avalanche were tears of a mountain?!
Mortal, mere, yes those are the only words I agree about us.