Minutes To Midnight

You ever watch the clouds pass by not like sheep like how everyone else sees them but as pieces of crumpled paper tumbling like tumbleweeds at a western and realize that every molecule of that puffy marshmallow in the blue is a day or a word condensed in such a miraculous of a form? Think of this book as a cloud segmented into months and weeks and days and words all culminating in a big puffy cloud waiting 'til the clock strikes noon before letting down its cleansing rain.