My own cloud...

Does the mountain ever crave for a cloud’s caress…
Or does it accept it indifferently as a natural cycle…
Does it get exhilarated with the touch and become fertile & green
After a long and barren autumn
Or does it feel anything at all…
Does the mountain ever claim the right to a cloud…
Or does it sit waiting patiently for the next one to come…
Different clouds with their different contours and vapors
Do they leave different impressions on the mountain…
Or does the mountain enjoy each one differently…
accepting what each one has to offer…
do they have different roles to play…
or does it not matter at all…

why do I crave for my own cloud…
is it that I am not a rock
or is it that I haven’t reached the height of a mountain yet
is it that I haven’t understood nature
or is it that nothing is mine anyways…