If I’ll have to live with my dreams forever,
When will I close my eyes in peace?
Like a mother exhausted from tending to her baby,
Waking up at the slightest sound,
Stifled by the quilt of darkness,
Yearning for an hour of restful sleep,
I, too, know no peace,
The dreams are lucid,
Long and short,
Of the dead and the living,
Strange is the landscape,
Like a poorly shot horror film,
Yet, I laugh often,
Pleased to see papa, once in a while,
He never says anything,
Too bad, it might have helped...
Lately, I can tell I am dreaming,
But I can’t wake up,
As if the ‘I’ has abandoned the body,
I wonder then who is dreaming?
The body lies comatose,
The mind now has a mind of its own,
Have you been caught in a dream?
One that has no middle, no ending,
It steals from me,
Drifting in and away like the fog,
Leaving me tired and lost,
In the wild forest of dreamland,
From where the walk back home is long,
When I finally wake up in bed,
It’s as if I never slept.
In life as in sleep,
Dreams push us,
To achieve, to do more,
And life is spent chasing that extra,
Couldn’t I have simply laid back and snored,
Lived in the ever renewing now,
And savoured the movement of breath,
The ‘so’ of inhaling and the ‘hum of exhaling,
Why do I let the moment of awareness drown,
The consciousness by travelling to places,
Where the ‘I’ is robbed of meaning, of being.