A Tale Of Clouds

6 pm and everything’s turned yellow to pale

The sunbeams sifting through clouds

And the poet can’t help but weave a tale

About clouds which are silent yet unspeakably loud.

 

Far above these cottony mass dispersed in the sky

Traveled across borders, mountains and seas

Waiting to be beheld like in lover’s eyes

Ever beautiful over the hilltop in the breeze.

 

Turned into different shapes, a perfect art of nature

Drew something over even our mind can’t think of

Sometimes familiar things and sometimes strange creatures

Yet every time our heart brims with joy and love.

 

Back in those days when they used to sleep in my art books

All were in blue with paints and crayons

And now with different shades and different looks

With more realism and changes to stay on.

-By Arun Bahadur Gurung

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