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Are Words Like Clouds?
Can they ever be?
Like life itself, clouds are constantly changing. They are constantly moving, The wind propels them while reshaping them. No cloud is ever the same from one moment to the next.
What if words were like clouds? As they float across the sky of our mind they continuously morph into new words. Together, they form phrases and sentences and ideas only to be replaced by new phrases and sentences and ideas.
There are days when there is not a cloud in our sky; a word drought. Then there are days when the words start billowing into huge storm clouds, growing and growing until they burst forth in a torrent of language. We can barely capture those words as they flood over us.
We can look at a real cloud in the real sky and try to come up with the words to describe it. We can write a poem about that cloud. But before we can even finish the poem the cloud has changed into something completely different.
Are words our attempt to stop all movement and freeze everything into a solidified, unchanging view? Are they an attempt to capture a fleeting moment of NOW in order to intellectualize it, conceptualize it? Can words really stop and block the natural flow? Can they really help us to experience that fleeting moment of NOW?
