Memory

..

POETRY WALKS  IN MY DREAM

by Surjeet Kalsey

Poetry walks in my dream with me

to my inner being  every night

and it listens to my unspoken words

which throb with my every breath.

When poetry opens its eyes

the sun shines everywhere

and dew-drops become pearls.

Poetry walks the moonless night

to a spectrum of colours.

 

Words’ sacred fragrance tells me:

not to lament on what is lost

and yearn for what you need

to live every moment in full.

Breathe in the essence of

every moment and each moment

that embraces you would become poetry.

Poetry stands by me like my true self.

It holds the mirror of the sky

full of all the colours of the rainbow.

 

In a reoccurring dream

my feet walk on the same road

which goes on and on rapping

around those buff mountains

and sinks into that velvety valley.

My foot-steps end right there

I become a tree standing still there

my dream never ends keeps walking

on the unending realm of the unknown.

Memories go long way to

make us pick those pieces

left somewhere in the pages of history.

 

Memories knit words and images

colours and fragrance in my dreams

and poetry walks with me every night

words illuminate the never ending path

the moonless night lit up the sky.

..

Poetry is a never ending love affair of the heart. 
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Dream

 

POETRY WALKS  IN MY DREAM

by surjeet kalsey

In a reoccurring dream

my feet walk on the same road

which goes on and on winding

and rapping around the buff mountains

and sinks into that velvety valley.

My foot steps end right there.

My dream never ends keeps walking

on the unending realm of the hidden path.

Poetry walks towards my inner core

it listens to my heart beat

and my unspoken words.

When poetry opens its eyes

the sun shines everywhere

and dew-drops become pearls.

Poetry travels from the moonless night

to a spectrum of seven colours.

Words are sacred and tell me:

don’t lament on what is lost.

Crave for what you want and

live every moment in full

Breathe in the essence of

every moment and each moment

that embraces you would become poetry.

Poetry stands by me like my true self.

Look up in the mirror of the sky

it holds all the colours of the rainbow.

Therefore, nothing is lost.

Memories go long way that

make us to pick those pieces

left somewhere in the pages of history.

Memory knits words in my dreams.

Poetry walks with me on that

never ending path every night.

.