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.