Tuesday, June 17, 2014

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.

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