The Cloud

The Cloud

There goes my breath.
He walks out the gates of chattering teeth
Perfumed with pride and bravery
But alas! Look, he retreats
The wind that blows against his little heart
Does not welcome salmon
Look, he retreats on scuttling feet.

Ere my little fellow may rest
The burdened cloud does groan and grin
Undressing its ignited teeth
And as an army may commence a raid
The rain-arrows descend
With every soldier taking aim
Grass once green flinches gray.

Eyes, is that the moon?
Is that the same moon I wrote of?
The quintessence of romance?
Was it his light that colored the snow-lilies
And blanketed the swaying weeds?
It cannot be! You are impish, my eyes
You dar`st not play such games with me.

But I don`t suppose there are two moons.
There exists just one- this one
That steals from behind the foe`s head
Slicing through cloud, attempting
To veil his guilty visage of treason
As his silver light lends eyes
To the raindrops that once plunged
With their fingers crossed,
Hoping to hit a little bone;
But now with vision- strike my chest,
Glaring down their pointed noses
With an air of confidence.

Defeat approaches on his steed.
Still I`ll stand my ground- only cowards flee;
And I shan`t crouch or hide or bend
Or expose that ever-deceived back
For this storm is not a false friend
That like an apple rotten,
Blushes all the blood it has
Till the pips lies on a platter
To reveal the night within;
But here is a true enemy
That aims at the eyes
And with a foe as fair as me
He shall have his chance.

Hence! Eyes, upward!
Gaze at this spectacle of fear
Into its eyes, even if you weep
Do not waver.
And now they weep, like spring onions
Red and sore, yet they don`t wink
These ribs conceal a knocking heart
Soaked to its chambers` skin
A heart now weary, that drops and sinks
The storm is strong
And I am dazed;
And I am dizzy;
And I am drenched;
But I am not done!

For look, those eyes which can perceive
The soul that lies in the chamber-skin
That holds the strength, not to just behold
But defeat with ease, such myriad storms
That fret upon its sublime surface
Like trivial little fireflies in space.

Hark! Can you now hear
The pleading of the sky?
Listen to its grieving tone
As it begs to the tired wind,
To inhale a final breath and blow;
Blow stronger than it ever did
So the cloud may run away...
Listen, Ears! The wind whistles
Sounding more like a little kid
Who so attempts, with pursed lips
And last night`s chicken stuck in his throat,
Than a gale`s commanding hoot.
The cloud runs
Rumbling, roaring, ranting,
To have lost to a mortal like me.

But alas! Cloud, you do not know
That you may move mountains
But never will you move a soul,
A soul that is the likes of me.

Dhaval
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Our life is like the sky. We have the sun, and we have the storm. But always, the storm, the obstacle, and the sadness in our life passes away. Nothing is stronger than the strength of spirit.