Experiences

I wandered as lonely as a cloud… The other day. Yesterday. Many moons ago. Everyday. Weightless, fluffy—yet, anchored down by gravity. In my meditation, I use a brilliant visualization technique for grounding—I imagine myself tethered to the earth with light cords. I always end up visualizing myself as floating in space on my chair, bobbing like another Little Prince, linked to a small earth. I wonder whether I see the earth below my feet as small. Barely enough to stand on. Do all of us come with some earth apportioned to us? A little piece of land to put roots into? Or are our connections as imperceptible as light cords? I wander a lot. Aimless and restless, over hills, valleys, forests and city-scapes. Or purposeful and sure footed—getting somewhere, doing something—carrying life, rainbows and messages for banished Yakshas. I meet other clouds and I slide by them, rubbing shoulders sometimes, rumbling and thundering, or quietly, forming hares and dog...

I mean very free verse. So free that you might wonder whether it is verse. But I have been writing these poems regularly for a few months now, usually in the mornings. These little spurts of creativity help me face increasingly stressful days at work and give me a reason to feel good about life, on a day-to-day basis. The Ride Outside my balcony was a fluffy cloud "Hop on, time for a ride," it said. I jumped over the rails, nimbler than I thought Fell headlong into its cushiony softness. We soared towards the orange streaked sky Cold wind swept my hair, my nose tip froze I waved at a flock of birds, they nodded at me We swerved sharply as a plane passed by (Deafening noise, btw, I am now hard of hearing) We met a minor God, rushing to an appointment We talked, my cloud and I-- Water bearing is not as easy as it looks Bombarded by hills, zapped by lightning! It talked of the trauma, the hard life I talked, about nothing in particular. Eventually, silence bef...