Clouds
by: Haresh Daswani

Drifting through the sky,
Like a stream of abstract,
On the view through a train window,
Raw and infinite,
Of smoke,
Of ideas...

Like a dream,
Ever so vague,
As reality loses focus,
A universe is discovered...

Questions on impossibilities,
Never mentioned,
The math of the world,
The balancing equation,
Overpowered by beauty of nonsense...

How was the sweetest music of history,
Jarred away by a sudden jerk of a train,
Ever more so is anger stirred,
Over the drowsing worker,
Who,
Years ago,
Saw a wonderful stream of clouds,
And let go of reality,
The hammer,
For the same music,
Of which he deprived me...