The cloud came down to rest on Earth.
It travelled so far, was filled
with water, ashes, sand and air;
Ready to drop its burden soon.
Not here said the sunbather
Here, said the farmer;
Go to Sahara said the third.
Confused, the cloud cried and lost it all.
The conflicting desires changed its calm.
Should we possibly just accept
Today is cloudy or sunny or rainy.
Not selfishly thinking of just us
however tempting that might be.
The poor cloud had just been floating about
doing what clouds do
Without attachment to thoughts.
© miriam ivarson