A Passing Cloud (or envisioning my dissolution while en route to the dump)

En route to the dump this morning

I noticed a cumulus cloud

Close to the horizon

Unlike camel weasel or whale

It looked like the very replica

Of my cerebellum

Grey matter born aloft

By an onshore breeze

There it was adrift

Tufted by the wind

Frontal lobe and all

And slowly I watched it

Disperse to the four corners

As the engine of perception

Enjoyed a brief moment

Of self recognition

Part and parcel

Of its own undoing

*  *  *  *  *

A short explanatory note:  Am I depressed today?  Not really.  But somehow I do feel more connected to a deeper layer of reality - a layer on which self has been dispossessed of some of its ordinary creature comforts.  I can more clearly imagine my own undoing.  The usual self-delusions have been set aside and instead I'm feeling more detached. Perhaps this sort of detachment ends up being labeled as depression and thus it happens that spirituality of one sort or another may actually end up being diagnosed as a mental illness.