“Daddy can you bring me part of a cloud”

Of course I knew you’d try your best

To do whatever you could

In order to fulfill my impossible request.

My five year old mind couldn’t quite comprehend

The idea that clouds are simply this:

Clumped up fog floating just a bit higher up.

I guess my mind really has always been up there in the sky.

“Daddy take me up in the plane so I can reach out the window and touch it myself”

Oh if only things were so simple

Another outlandish dream of wee little me

Yet despite the odds your response was still so reassuring

“Someday”

What else could one say in response to such an odd thing!

“Dad when are we gonna go touch the clouds?”

“You’re walking in one right now”

The droplets kissed my small rosy cheeks and I went on my way

I was first a bit confused

But all of the pieces got put together on that foggy day.

From the get go

You made sure I always felt like a cloud:

The best of the best!

The one at the tippy top

Capable of shapeshifting into anything they wanted to be.

Never fog

Mundane and annoying to drive in

No step above the bottom

I’ll never forget my daddy

Who had a passion for being in the air

But remained rooted right here

To be sure that there was never a day

I’d doubt my ability to be up in the sky

Right where you made sure I knew that I belong.