Goodbye, that cloud

     I once dreamed of being a cloud, because I felt it was free and unrestrained, drifting and scattering, yet always able to gather again.

    Whenever I walk along that familiar path leading home and school, I always like to look up at the sky. The sky is a clear blue, the sun making it bright and dazzling. A few white clouds drift lazily across the horizon, carrying a lazy, comfortable, free, and unrestrained feeling, floating from one side of the sky to the other.

    Occasionally, I'll encounter a few azaleas, swaying desperately in the wind on that small hillside in March. That splash of bright red amidst the green is particularly striking. As the clouds drift by, my feet unconsciously half-walk, half-hop, my heart overflowing with a joy that belongs to the sunshine, to the vastness of nature, like a gentle breeze warming my heart.

    Occasionally, I'd encounter a field of summer lotus blossoms. In June, the rain had washed the road surface spotless. Holding a purple umbrella reflecting the flowing water, I'd walk alone along that long, familiar path, watching the glistening dewdrops on the lotus leaves, my heart brightening. Looking up at the clouds overhead, they seemed to embrace each other, resisting the wind and rain together, even sacrificing their pristine white appearance—a sight that was truly awe-inspiring.

    I'd never considered before that clouds also have their helplessness, their sorrows, and their moments of being powerless.

    Where is the cloud's home? Where does it nest? Clouds come and go, do they ever truly rest? Is there ever a harbor for them to dock in? Do they have a direction?

    Perhaps everything in this world has two sides; there is no absolute freedom, just as there is no absolute despair. As long as life goes on, we should live better, choosing happiness, choosing moments of freedom, choosing a carefree and unrestrained spirit.

    So I want to say, goodbye, that cloud! That cloud I once longed to be like, that cloud I once felt so free and unrestrained, that cloud with nowhere to belong—I no longer need to envy you, and you need not grieve, for we both exist in this world. I have come to understand you more deeply. Freedom remains what I yearn for. But I have also learned to live my life well now, to be fulfilled, happy, and to refuse to complain.