Thus said the wrangle betwixt clouds
That helped the mountains in his task,
As the pregnant clouds wrestling
Were delivered of their babes in millions
Of rare silver drops of elixir
The profuse fall of rain
Inundated the planes, hills and dales
And in brooks and streams flowed
Downwards to fill the earth with happiness.

When the wind and clouds withdrew
The mount glittering stood with a smile
"Petty clouds" he said, "Without a form
Without anything to boast as their's
Know not how it rains,
But draw their arms of might
Unmindful of the sun's graceful hands
That worked to create the vapour
And moist to shape the phantoms
To stroll a little and meet with death,
Leaving none to weep or cremate the dead"
 

​

© 2009 Anuj Nair.
All rights reserved.