Today the Clouds will tell a different story
they can afford to do so;
the sun has set for the day.
The clouds claim they have nothing to do with the ocean,
and that does not seem to bother the tides
Their machinery does not depend on these emotional clouds
they live in a freedom of their own
they do not care who is above them
they kiss the banks like there is no tomorrow.
As I sit in the balcony and view
the changing shapes of clouds, I wonder
do they really mean what they say?
The ocean is vast; at least in our imagination
but the clouds are limited to what we can see
they are limited to their present existence
limited to the speculative forms they make
To be honest the forms make them trivial
show them in a lesser purpose than the truth
May be the clouds wish to say
that they have a priority in the party
But for a party in the skies
the priority is for the stars
and the moon that only shows
half its moonhood…
But for a poet sitting in the balcony
sipping a Jack Daniels
I guess even the slightest tide of imagination
can send ripples into his life
Thank You for this poem….