The other day, I was driving along a winding mountain road.
It was a wild evening.
The mist swallowed the trail ahead.
And arrogant clouds stood in my way,
Creeping into the space within my car.
That annoyed me, and I rolled up the window.
But did they truly invade my space?
Or was I trespassing in their kingdom?
It is their realm of mist and clouds,
Where they dance freely in the vast, open sky.
Veiled in the silence of sadness.
They sometimes roar with a voice of thunder,
When grief grows too heavy to hold,
They weep in countless raindrops.
So what was I doing there?
A stranger in their sacred world.
Better I should have turned away —
So they might reclaim their endless skies,
Untroubled by a wanderer’s wheels.
Nov 3, 2025
Nov 3, 2025 at 2:31 PM UTC
The other day, I was driving along a winding mountain road.
It was a wild evening.
The mist swallowed the trail ahead.
And arrogant clouds stood in my way,
Creeping into the space within my car.
That annoyed me, and I rolled up the window.
But did they truly invade my space?
Or was I trespassing in their kingdom?
It is their realm of mist and clouds,
Where they dance freely in the vast, open sky.
Veiled in the silence of sadness.
They sometimes roar with a voice of thunder,
When grief grows too heavy to hold,
They weep in countless raindrops.
So what was I doing there?
A stranger in their sacred world.
Better I should have turned away —
So they might reclaim their endless skies,
Untroubled by a wanderer’s wheels.