O You Clouds

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                     O You Clouds

O clouds! Why must you change forms?

Why are thin vapors the quay of storms?

White, black and grey, the erratic shades,

Straightening, curving to entwined braids.

 

Carrying a sea of water on thin air so light,

A drop falls naught, ‘cause you hold it tight,

Gliding on hills and planes as dense smoke,

Dancing and swirling, attired in shady cloak.

 

Now a light smog, chased by magical spray,

Rain beads, hails and flakes, dicey they play,

Shadows and sun take their luxurious turns,

Now a breezy gale, then prickles and burns!

 

Enclosed in triple shades, aye hover and sail,

Calming arid lands, and verdure at high scale,

Then horrific torrents, gulping land and living.

The hails swinging, thunder and bolts ringing!

 

There might be violent currents seeking shore,

The unthinkable calamity, ah the days of yore,

Will the folks wait for the rent in the dark yon?

And stare at the beloved Sun, glance at dawn!

By Dr. Riaz Ahmad, November 1, 2

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