[ I read a poem by Paash when I was in school, which said "सबसे ख़तरनाक होता है सपनों का मर जाना" - roughly translated to "The worst thing to ever happen, is when dreams die". I can testify it to be true! Sometimes the rift between your dreams and reality is so much that they feel like a burden and it seems best to bury them and let them die. But this post os not about the death of dreams, in fact, it is about dreaming again :) ]
A cloud of a dream..
Rose up from my being
Formless at first -
A mere wish
Taking shape, changing colours
Realising, gradually
How beautiful it is - beyond words,
Yet
Within my sight
So close
That if I just reached out
It could be mine!
I chase it around with a child-like joy
jumping over rivulets and creeks
I follow it through valleys
climb all rugged rising peaks
It makes my heart flutter
In equal parts of joy and fear -
What if it's not meant to be?
What if it disappears in thin air?
