The Love Of The Cloud

The raindrops, half frozen,

Clings to the edge of the leaf,

Looks like a blot of ink,

Shedding the unsaid tales,

To the dews in the meadow

As the night falls like a shadow,

Without informing the dancing branches,

Diminishing the ray of the evening,

The drops still withhold,

The treasure of those mysteries,

Which clouds wish to reveal

Yet, another morning decides 

The fate of those little drops,

As the sun observes every speck of drop,

The mysteries go unrevealed,

And the clouds dispersed in the air

without telling it's love to the Earth.