"If you are a poet, you will see clearly that there is a cloud
floating in this sheet of paper."—Thich Nhat Hanh

Before you became a cloud, you were an ocean, roiled and
murmuring like a mouth. You were the shadow of a cloud
crossing over a field of tulips. You were the tears of a
man who cried into a plaid handkerchief. You were a sky
without a hat. Your heart puffed and flowered like sheets
drying on a line.

And when you were a tree, you listened to trees and the tree
things trees told you. You were the wind in the wheels of a
red bicycle. You were the spidery Maria tattooed on the
hairless arm of a boy in downtown Houston. You were the
rain rolling off the waxy leaves of a magnolia tree. A lock
of straw-colored hair wedged between the mottled pages of a
Victor Hugo novel. A crescent of soap. A spider the color
of a finger nail. The black nets beneath the sea of olive
trees. A skein of blue wool. A tea saucer wrapped in
newspaper. An empty cracker tin. A bowl of blueberries in
heavy cream. White wine in a green-stemmed glass.

And when you opened your wings to wind, across the
punched-tin sky above a prison courtyard, those condemned to
death and those condemned to life watched how smooth and
sweet a white cloud glides.

San Antonio

by Sandra Cisneros

Comments (6)

Very true Hasmukh Sir, your words reflect people's mindset. Rubina Shaikh, Mumbai, Jan 24,2018
Supratik Sen, Kolkata, Jan 24,2018 Hasmukh Bhai, may I make a little change in the first stanza? Never try With lies in the mind And lice on the head You will never find This unkind fiend KH Prabhu, Kumta, Karnataka - 581343, Jan 24,2018
So practical. I like to read your poems, Sir. So simple yet they touch upon the most complex realities of our lives. :) Chirasree Bose, Hyderabad, Jan 24,2018
Good one! Bring them on. Supratik Sen, Kolkata, Jan 24,2018
welocme michael t bee 1 Manage Like · Reply · 1m
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