The Lost Cloud

Below is a short verse from my diary "Songs of the Mind".

 
 And I say to the mind,
 Look there is he,
 Is he a man or a woman?
 Seems cannot find his robustness!
 And neither has her chosen curve.
 And yet looks so joyous, so filled. 
  
 What shall I call him?
 Sounds neither deep like a man,
 Nor sweet like a woman,
 He seems to be swept away by something, 
 I have never had known,
 He seems like that cloud, that just lost itself,
 When it rained everything it had, unto the earth's feet.
  
 And all that left me pondering - 
 Shall I ever reach there?
 Can I live without my name and form?
 What shall they call me, when am no more a poet?
 Ah! The lost cloud?
  
  
©Debanjalee Sen, 2020

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