by Sumant Poddar
I can see a sparkle in the clouds of thunder,
May be an event of thoughts, but not a blunder;
Those flying clouds in the morning air,
Those tiny dots of moisture, a love affair;
Why the mornings have such a beautiful look?
Just like a picture, out of a book;
Suddenly, I see a glimpse, so dark,
Reminded me of an old tree bark,
All the wonderful clouds, are seen running,
Somewhere down, something is burning,
I get a jolt and then a shiver down,
Colors gone, everything so brown;
I close my eyes in shame,
Feelings, all up in flame,
Scared in the storm, to open my eyes,
I feel a pull, telling me good byes,
My eyes moisten, my lips dry,
A shout comes out like a cry;
My inner-self tells me a tale,
‘Get up young humane, don’t be so frail,
You are just dreaming black,
Wake up and fill the crack,
Life is to live and love,
See outside, waiting is a beautiful dove’;
In a push, which I had never felt,
Such a situation, never had I dealt,
Coming back to myself once again was good,
It was an escape, out from the hood;
Once again, I could see a sparkle in the clouds of thunder,
An event of thought, certainly, not a blunder…..
