Clouds

These clouds that are flying high,
Swirling upwards in the blue sky,
Narrate a fathom tale of joy,
Of astounding beauty for the heavens that glow.

The imperfectly perfect patterns they portray,
Moulding itself to any obstruction in its way,
Picturesquely spotting the entire canvas of blue,
Realising their endless limits are true.

Each one beholds a silver lining,
Of hopes to bring back the hour of shining,
With all the heavy splash they carry to bestow,
Yet so light and easy do they flow.
Conferring  blissful showers on their go.

Upholding the jolts of sparkling thunders,
That who shiver their existence making them wander,
Their clusters are never shaken,
However fragile it seems, their strings are never broken.

Unitedly they embark their never ending journey,
Exhibiting marvels of giving, sharing, loving
With their cheerful moves ever inspiring.