“Get your head out of the clouds!”

They yell out from below me.

I don’t want to.

 

They tug at me,

shake the ladder that I stand on,

but I keep my head in the clouds.

 

I know that down there,

there is pain and turmoil,

up here there is happiness.

 

“Get your head out of the clouds!”

They yell again.

I peak a look down.

 

They are all so busy,

always doing something,

crawling over one another to live.

 

I put my head back in the clouds.

Why would I want that?

Why would I leave the clouds?

 

They are soft,

warm and never blame,

They can be whatever I want.

 

Suddenly I’m falling,

falling out of the clouds,

towards the busy people.

 

I try to call out to the clouds

to reach down and catch me,

but they keep drifting like nothing happened.

 

I’m falling,

tumbling,

through the blue sky.

 

“I’ve got you,”

says a voice

and a hand pushes on my back.

 

No the hand doesn’t push

The hand catches me,

softening my landing.

 

Except it is not one hand,

it is hundreds,

holding me up.

 

I realized I had stopped falling,

and now was just lying on my back

looking up at the clouds.

 

I miss them,

why had I fallen?

I had to find a way back.

 

All the hands set me down

and I look around,

each hand had a face.

 

Each face greets me warmly

and I feel weird.

Not a bad weird, but good.

 

They all want me to join them,

they will support me in hard times,

and I will do the same to them.

 

I look back up at the clouds missing them,

but I like it down here in a thing called

reality.