The clouds today are islands, a shoal, a virtual reef. Close knit they hover overhead, jumping distance between them, inviting me to stand on my head and hop.
There is a game the gods play when the clouds are so close. They play it because they know the clouds conceal them. It is a giant game of checkers, each cloud a square on the board, and the objective is to jump your piece to the other side of the world, one cloud hop at a time. They do not care that it could take a long time, for time is nothing in eternity. They do not mind that the clouds may dissipate before the game ends, for being gods they understand that nothing happens before its time.
Closer to home, God plays another game. He plays the game where I think I’m me and you think you’re you. This is more akin to chess, for each piece has a different role to play. And like any game, it doesn’t work without all the pieces. He plays against Himself, chuckling all the time, and does not care that it could take a long time, for time is nothing in eternity. He does not mind that we may disappear before the game ends, for He understands that nothing happens before its time.