Shifting Clouds

Sir Alfred Lord Tennyson, author of one of my and many a CBSE students' favorite poem  'The Brook' derived a sense of security from an eternal, unfailing stream of gushing water. He evoked in all of us a sense of insurance from something that will never cease, that will withstand the tests of time and events (Pollution must not have been on everyone's mind in the early 1800s). While the poem continues to give solace to  me, it got me thinking- Is it the ever constant or the ever changing that really keeps us going?

The clouds standing above me speak

In words of a dark and somber shadow

To let me know, to let me believe

The mournful song in me plays in every piano.

Too often are they regarded as

Omens of gloom and despondence

Too often is an overcast afternoon

Spent with listless indolence.

They stand between the land and sun

Keep standing still till the wind billows

To lay bare the sparkling blue skies

Gleaming gaily on the earth below.

Now the sun glows in all it's glory

Leaving no leaf, nay a petal untouched.

The birds come out to chime their songs

As if with a euphoric spirit clutched.

I bask in the lively kindness of the sun

Let it kindle in me a flame of jubiliance

I don't shy away from it's honest sultriness

But rather embrace it in all it's exuberance.

Even though I know the clouds will return

To cover the sun and bar my view

I won't dwell morosely upon the thought

For they will shift again to reveal the sky anew.

There may be times when I want to choose

Between the sunny glow and the dreary gloom

I shall accept I'll never have any control

In what shade the skies above me assume.