Taller than the World

You take photographs of clouds wishing you were there.
Wishing you were free to drift with the wind.
Wishing to storm when you felt anger, or pain.
Wishing to be part of the endless, bright blue sky, alone, with, of course the occasional flock of birds and airplane, but you admire those things as well.

I think it’s just that you wish you could fly, or at least, be above it all.
Never worrying about the smaller things.
You are bigger than that, you are higher, you are taller than the world.

I watched you leave one day, not physically, but emotionally, you left.
You dropped all the wrong you had in your soul and became an entirely new person.
I thank you for that, I thank you for letting yourself go . . .