And the wind is making speeches And the rain sounds like a round of applause, And then one day you find ten years have got behind you No one told you when to run, Cheers me dears, From time to time The clouds give rest To the moon-beholders., He's waiting in the wings He speaks of senseless things His script is you and me boy, Me love you long time, Murky Buckets, Our breath that berates before our eyes - The ground beneath that shakes under our weight, Our collars were high and our hats were extremely soft. We would surprise each other with alphabets made of twigs., Scene of the crime, Tagging along and away for more than a year and a day, Thanking You, Your eyes make a circle I see you when I go in there
Happy Anniversary with WordPress.com!
You registered on WordPress.com 2 years ago!
Thanks for flying with us. Keep up the good blogging.
It seemed like any other ordinary day. Then the skytrain arrived bearing word that time had made some irrevocable changes; Sonmi, then Esme, and her Cloud had been drifting through the blogosphere for a full…two years.
The missive’s message sank in. Two years had flown by and she’d flown with them, and, as in all other dimensions, out of sync. There were mornings, days and nights that lasted for months at a time, yet weeks flashed by with a span of twenty-four hours. Time was wrapped around her like a transcendental electric blanket.
It was noted that at 435 days in, sonmi (as was), found herself in the following predicament –
Some of those wanderers have drifted away to new shores, some remain, steadfast, loyal, riding with her and she wishes them all well.
And so it came to pass that Esme (as is), this very morning, saw the mist lifting and gazed at the 142 people hiding behind trees, bushes, cars, row boats on rough seas, planes, hot air balloons, magic carpets and steamships, all of them to a wombat, following her.
The Cloud produced a giant cake from its innards the size of a football pitch, and Esme called out to each and every one of her followers, be they official or not, named or anonymous, chattering gaily, or silent partners for eternity, to join her; and so they did, one by one, some more shy than others, some beeping giant horns of glee, and she saw that they all had a single balloon grasped in their sweaty little hands. She tied each air-filled smile to the Cloud’s balustrade, and up, up, up they all floated into the blue yonder… to where?
Time will tell.
Thank you, one and all.
- Esme piloting the Clouds.