The dreams of reality

 

 

The swarming clouds thunder

My dreams sprout in their flash

For these are my last morsel

That have fallen in the cracks

My breath is held up to sniff

The promises of graying sky

As it wraps the spread out silver foil

By overflowing illusions of vapor

That pour to prove their existence

The wood of pyre now needs to be saved

To carve a door to guard little treasures

That will erupt in the empty house

A little further, like a mirage

Some dreams echo into the eye

Of steady crops and hopeful hands

The busy sickle and rampant giggle

When the yield will last the next birth

It must rain tonight to germinate dreams

Latent so far in dried up dormant eyes

The silent sighs trust the thunder of skies.

 

Delhi

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29.5.24

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