The morning is bright, with enormous clouds. They are momentary travelers forging their path, their final pilgrimage across the sky.

You mirror them, your step is effortless and light, You are tethered by gravity but you maintain an ethereal state.

But the look in your eye belies the ease of your glide. I see, in there, dreams of a far away land, a place where you don’t carry the weight of the news you bear.