Each thought a cloud.
Such volume that floats with inner mysteries.
Can you guess it?
Hide low for no one can see through it.
Take a guess, any guess.
Happiness?
Quite, my boy.
Yet tugging at the strings
of my cerebrum's behind.
Are thoughts of one question.
Tis love alive?
Where is the call? The concern?
Existence seemed to perish
as a birth of hope and eager arises.
Live it down to the day!
Call and wonder?
Or lay in thoughts. Thoughts deep.
Thoughts deep like the cloud's inner mystery.
Such mystery, unexplored.
What to do?
Ask again in time. No answer. Big wonder.
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