At 35,000 Feet

Some jumbo clouds appear to me
In many shapes, then quickly fleet.
One's like a house; one's like a mouse.
I view them from my window seat.
The cabin crew arrives and asks,
"Sir, would you like some Kangra chai
Or Sparkling Wine?" I say, "I'm fine,"
Bewitched by clouds that pass me by.

The person next to me is young.
With torte, he's having orange juice.
Why doesn't he gaze out to see
The clouds that come and then vamoose?
Perhaps this isn't his first time
Travelling in an aeroplane,
Unlike me, who is drawn into
The vastness of this white domain.

Now all seem overstuffed and tired.
Loud snores are heard from young and old.
Outside, a bright, fat layer of light
Changes the clouds from white to gold.
I want to take a snapshot of
This rare display, but all I do
Is praise the One who built the sun
And made this great, hair-raising view.