inspiration, philosophy, poetry, Soulful

Love is that cloud

Sitting in my balcony, looking at the sky above, and thinking about love made me feel its semblance to a cloud. A short poem to share this feeling.

Love is that cloud,

That feels soft and cottony,
Taking different shapes and forms,
In shades of white and fawn.
It keeps moving freely,
In this vast limitless sky,
Traversing vast distances.
The journey isn’t all glee,
It has its share of pain,
That makes this cloud a vapor bag,
That looks heavy and grey,
And breaks it down into tiny drops,
Falling on the ground,
Giving off its love to it,
And blooming everything around,
And this terminal episode,
Of the saga of a cloud,
Makes it lose its existence forever.


inspiration, poetry

A Love Like This

Have you ever observed nature and felt a sense of awe? Have you ever wondered what is the mystery behind nature’s impeccable beauty? The answer to all these questions- it’s love. Love of a kind that just gives. Such a love ought to be beautiful.

image source: the internet, & collage by me.

The Lines

When I looked upon that mountain,

And how the clouds smother its peak,

A gentle stroke before drifting away,

I am in awe of,

The beauty of this encounter,

Love of a moment,

Remembrance of a lifetime.

When I looked upon that stream of water,

A bubbly gushing rivulet,

And how it gave its soothing touch,

As it ran, tracing the mountain,

Drenching it from top to bottom,

Another kind of temporary love,

Whose essence lingers for long.

When I looked at that dewdrop,

Losing its form on the petal,

And finally its identity,

But making the petal shine,

What a sacrificial love it is,

A moment’s surrender to the other,

Glorifying one’s love for eternity.



A Beautiful Life

Life is beautiful every single moment. It is us who make it look ugly with our cloudy thoughts of grief, guilt, and self-deprecation. The light exists always; it is just concealed by the darkness of our moribundity. Let’s reclaim this beauty through a poem.

Light shall shine…

The Lines

How trapped am I?
I occasionally poked myself,

Whenever I turned into,

A grumpy gloomy cloud,

Staining the sunny radiance,

Of the yore.


I washed those stains,

By bursting aloud,

Pouring out all that trapped me.


It never happened,

with ease,

And I,

With weary, frantic eyes,

Looked for another cloud,

Which could cause another thunder,

Where we share our saddened vibrations.


This turned into an ordeal,

A vicious cycle,

That increased the pain,

Caused by the heaviness of other clouds.

That’s what addiction is,

It smothers you for a while,

Gives a moment of ecstasy,

And, then,

Tortures you in every breath.


I decided,

To release the burden,

All by myself,

With a sense of freedom,

Breaking all inhibitions,

All notions of fear and self-doubt,

And let the sun shine again,

In its full glory,

Outgrowing the years of yore,

To the pinnacle of senility.

That’s how life is,

Beautiful when stained,


Even more beautiful,

When cleansed.