There is beauty in the gathering clouds
The portending of a storm.
After a day of crystal blue skies and glaring heat
A rush of cold air –
Unheard of this time of year in South India.
But the changing winds are here.
Perhaps to remind us by strong contrast
To not hold on to anything,
To let go and observe the play of elements,
Dancing within and without
Our mortal frame and Infinite Body.