A small cloud drifts across the sky, unsure where to go. It doesn’t rush, it just moves — slowly, softly. The sun shapes it, the wind changes it. Yet it never loses its grace in becoming. Like that cloud, we aren’t meant to stay still. We’re meant to float, to change, to find our light. Our purpose isn’t in reaching somewhere, but in how gently we move through others’ skies. Even if we fade, we leave behind rain — a quiet proof that we once touched the earth. ☁️