I wandered as lonely as a cloud… The other day. Yesterday. Many moons ago. Everyday. Weightless, fluffy—yet, anchored down by gravity. In my meditation, I use a brilliant visualization technique for grounding—I imagine myself tethered to the earth with light cords. I always end up visualizing myself as floating in space on my chair, bobbing like another Little Prince, linked to a small earth. I wonder whether I see the earth below my feet as small. Barely enough to stand on. Do all of us come with some earth apportioned to us? A little piece of land to put roots into? Or are our connections as imperceptible as light cords? I wander a lot. Aimless and restless, over hills, valleys, forests and city-scapes. Or purposeful and sure footed—getting somewhere, doing something—carrying life, rainbows and messages for banished Yakshas. I meet other clouds and I slide by them, rubbing shoulders sometimes, rumbling and thundering, or quietly, forming hares and dog