As golden beams of sunrays fall
on me,
A glistening face and a shadowy
halo,
Evoke false ideas of enlightenment,
Its purported omniscience,
Promises an end to all simple yet
troubling questions
But as the rays shake the
placidity of my face,
Surrealism vanishes leaving
behind no trace,
The constant battle in the mind
begins,
And I ask myself, “What is a
dream?”
Is it a soap bubble?
That peaks in magnificence before
bursting
Or is it a crystal ball?
That inspires, if not conspires
the future
Is it an elusive mirage?
Whose chase ends only with the day
(read life)
Or is it a lodestar?
That guides a lost traveler
Is it a whirlwind?
That snares expedition ships
Or is it a gust of wind?
That helps a ship come ashore
Is it a trap laid by the mind?
To punish the more lazy body for
resting
Or is it a muse conceived by the
mind?
To galvanize a tired body
As I scour for answers to these
questions,
I dash into a yet another
question,
“Why do I dream?”
Desert Rose
19th May, 2013
Mumbai
