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what if we woke up one day having turned into a warm fine mist,

and were taken away from our bed on a breeze


what if we got stuck to a dandelion, and then sneezed out by a dog’s wet nose,

before landing on a hot stone where we baked in the sun until we evaporated


and what if we ended up in two different clouds, but still near by,

and fell down with the rain into the same small lake


what if a canoe came by and with its oars, dipped and pulled,

turning us into a pair of swirling miniature whirlpools


what if we twirled and twirled until a certain kind of physics insisted we combine


and what if we moved with the wind and the tides for months until our hemisphere cooled,

and our thoughts got slower and we strained to communicate until it all froze up


i bet the quiet would be a nice change, the cold, still silence that would go on for 100 days.

we would enjoy the pace, a chance to meditate and stop worrying about chores or the internet or each other


right before we got bored of it, the earth would tilt toward the sun and we’d start to hear the sound of dripping.

it would come from all around us and soon we’d thaw too, into a couple of cold drops barely warm enough to be liquid


soon we’d join some other cold drops, pockets of them would form around us until the edges all cracked,

and with a splash it would become a lake of water again


maybe we’d be near the bottom, with the rocks and mush, remembering what it felt like to be a cloud,

and with a little wriggling we’d find our way to the surface, and wait for the sun to do what it does


partway between the lake and the sky we’d grab a hold of each other and decide to keep wriggling.

we’d pass through the clouds, being careful not to freeze again when we got to a high altitude


with a little shove we’d pop through the ozone and find our way into orbit.

it would remind us of being frozen, with the quiet, calm, carefree stillness,

but with a better view