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The Whitest of Clouds

Sky is blue,
And mostly
It’s true.

The darkest of clouds,
Cut loose,
Rains and drizzles,
No gleam,
and sometimes even
the whitest of cloud trespassed.

While spectating
the shower,
Like every drop
thoughts change.

And for some
To pause
To get lost
in a thought,
Observing the world
Getting wet,
And to attend
To witness, with
a coffee or tea.

Not regretting
the days which lead
To today,
Meanwhile looking forward,
Enduring pain,
With hope it does not go in vain.

And may,
we live
Through the rain
Without blending and
Loose yourself
Among the drain.

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