Shouldn't…but Do

On a peerless blue day, the sound of a jet drew my attention skyward. As is so often the case, the plane was long past the sound in the sky that had caught my thought. The contrail wend its way westward.

The jet, progenitor of both plume and roar, was long beyond before I cast my eyes upward. Funny how things in the sky often have a cause and effect, lightning and thunder, jets and their traces.

But the similarity ends there, I think. Lightning splits the mind, the circumstance, and rattles our cages with its voice. Skyward airplanes deliver, slipping silently past before we see and hear winding footsteps.

Life comes both ways, highly charged or lost in thought, and clouds.