Struggling its way,
Through mystique of fog & storm,
Aircraft enters to,
A world of floating clouds,

Looking like Snow Clad Mountains,
The kid in me wants to hop on it,
Make castles of whiteness,
Or The Froth of Milk,
Floating & ignoring gravity,

Or The Foam of Water,
When sea hits the shore,

Or The Frozen Bubbles ,
Like they have jammed,

Or Livening the Color of White,
Forming sculptures,

Or Giving Heart to Cotton,
Where height of mounds,
Tells intensity of emotion,

Or Fields of Salt,
Taking liberty,
And making art,

Or A gift of sweetness,
By spreading sugar all over,

Or Innovation of Chef,
Icing a White Forest Cake,

Or Vivid fields spread with Snow,
Carefree scattered whiteness,

Or Burst balloon,
But obstructed in motion,

Or Bubbles of ice,

Or Frozen smoke,

In distance i could envision,
A place for my fairy tale,
My muse sitting on a mound,
Floating on the white field,

Horizon has never looked so beautiful,
My geography text book comes alive,
How more beautiful can himalyas look,

The scenery resembles purity,
Nature propagating its originality,
Trying to cover the darkness below,

But the view of earth peeks,
It seems to realise humans its mistake,
How the super beings,
(supposed to take care)
Are insensitively destroying their mother,

Torrid rain are the anger,
And acid rain is her pain,
Throwing back the dirt,

Through clouds it says :
‘Enough is enough’
At least let me live here in peace.

As the fairy world departs,
And reality comes alive,
Feels like waking up from a dream,
A dream seen with open eyes,