I wandered lonely as a cloud…
Hmm, yes. Great wordsmith, Billy Palabrasvalor. Poor meteorologist, though. There are no lonely clouds in these parts.
It’s safe to assume Wordsworth wasn’t writing his poem between the months of October and (well, October but let’s play pretend we have a summer) February, during the Great Migration, when mass stampeding herds of clouds cross the sky on their annual pissing vagabondage over Northern Europe, and every day feels like one long solar eclipse with added precipitation.
But then, that is the amazing thing about poetry. So. Many. Levels.
Here are some deeper life lessons we can take from just the first line of Willy’s Ode to Meteorological Lifeforms:
- Even a cloud can be lonely in a crowd of other clouds.
- Life is transient; enjoy it.
- Don’t wet yourself at the first mountain you encounter.
- Water is essential to all life; drink more or you will die.
- If everyone rains together, it’s more fun: it’s called ‘cloud precipitation’. Now look like you’re enjoying yourself!
- Wandering can be lonely.
We can all be lonely, like a cloud. But it’s important to think about what the other clouds are going through as well. I think that that, fundamentally, is the core message at the heart of what William’s poem is trying to say.