The Dream
Something is pulling my soul from me Like how my amma pulls a small ball of dough from a bigger one, Like how the earth was pulled from the sun, Or the moon was pulled from the earth. Every night, the sky searches for me, to whisper a thrilling plan If only, I come out of my house. Millions of rain drops wait to fall on my cheeks, If only, I peep out of my umbrella. Thousand blades of grass wait to kiss my feet If only, I step out of my shoes. The paper boats I made and let sail as a child, Have reached the streams of my future and are waiting for me to board. I will cross the seven seas and conquer lands beyond, If only, I Wake up.