With a look of being half-asleep
with the steam of the coffee and dreams
rising before the eye,
I have dreamed of things
with a book in my hand
and I know
you have dreamed them too.

I have dreamed of winters when
The only gold that
shines on the road is
a patch of iridescence in the gloom
of the bleak grey
of the bare winter trees who are
touched by the sun lightly.

On a lovely misty day, I know,
everything welcomes the mist.
its coolness soothes the eye,
the reflections in the waters still;
the winter spreads a blanket
on all that needs a sleep.

Holding on to the sun
a little patch of a dancing child of light,
a stray sunbeam,
lost, in panic,
frantically looking for the parent sun
as it wandered endlessly;
I have seen that too.
Deep into the carnival of grey dusk,
and soon having lost the track of the parent sun,
a strange connection between the loss of a way and bewilderment;
I have seen that too.
How the baby sunbeam then holds my hand with trust;
I have known that too

Sushama Karnik

Image Credit: Darlene Walsh

Originally shared by Darlene Walsh - 3 comments

A book day..