Before the lullaby ends, before the eyes are closed,
My fears ,staying inside, come out and lie disclosed,
My greatest trepidation blossoms in the dreams that I see,
So much it haunts sometimes, that I wish to flee.

"I am seated across the window, gazing at the stars,
Should I keep dreaming I can reach that far?"

Because I am not sure, if my dreams are real,
Maybe another minute obsession, another joke concealed?
If I choose to chase would it be a wrong way to go?
Narrower at every step? Misleading as I grow?

"I dream as I walk, I dream as I talk,
I am day dreaming  always, never looking at the clock.
Should I stop? Should it cease? Should it not supervene?
Should I forget and move on? Wipe it all clean?"

Shouldn’t I go and jump, If I am supposed to fall anyway?
I will break some bones but at least...freely falling through the way,
And who knows, I might not fall but instead  learn to fly,
And maybe that’s the reason, it should be worth a try,
After all broken bones can heal, and crippled body can work,
But crippled dreams, abandoned and forgotten, becomes a haunting smirk..

*"I am lying on earth, should I look at the sky?
Should I really ever think I could reach that high?
                  What’s the harm in thinking? Dream it anyway,
                  Because if you won’t, it won’t, if you do then it may…"

Sometimes at night I like to think
Ideas flow like a rippled stream;
Some thoughts arise while others sink,
Memories flood back in to the dream
Of other times, of another world;
Different actors within the same play;
Other countries, my loyalties unfurled,
Another story, take me back to the day…
Ahhh, I remember it all so well,
Tide gone, we ran on the sand,
It was in France, it was Mont St. Michel,
We had so much fun, nothing was planned.
So where are you now, my blond haired friend;
Do you see me and where I have been;
Are we connected, do our thoughts still transcend;
In my life do you now supervene?
I can be your vicarious choice -
Please play me like never before;
I hear you, I remember the sound of your voice;
You are back and we are ready for more.
But old memories fade and the moment is gone,
What we held we must now give away.
An attention jolt, it’s my life’s edge song
And that is why I write poetry…