Cloud Poem by Samya Bose

I am nature's painting
On the biggest canvas of all;
You find me soaring
Through air, above all.
Fleeting is my each shape,
As my each colour,
Like a floating drape
I cover and then uncover
The blazing sun
Or the gleaming moon,
As if something is done
To be undone so soon.
Rising from the loud
Ocean and river,
I feel so proud
Of my unmatched splendour.

To the lonely poet,
I am a magical gift
Leaving him in a state
Of trance, as I drift.
To him, I symbolize
Life and the living,
As I arise and maximize
And keep gently moving.
When he says, I change
But can not die,
It seems strange
Though one can hardly deny.
He let his imagination
Sail like birds,
I wonder at his passion
Of capturing me in words.

But to the man, in prison
Of mundane need,
Who finds no reason
To give his own melancholy a feed;
I am nothing
But a crowd of vapour,
Which keeps forming
To be unbuilt as shower.
His face is lit up
With a pleasant glee,
If he finds me up
As he wants me to be.
However, this glee can
Turn into grimace,
When I am, to realize his plan
Counted as a divine hindrance.

The painter who lives
In shape and colour,
From me, he receives
Untainted treasure.
Lovers who wander
Clasping each others arm,
Insist on to surrender
To my captivating charm.
I unbuild myself
Offering watery embrace,
Thus I meet my replete self
Banishing every disgrace.
I infuse merriment
Into lives of all,
Whether I form
Or transform and fall.