Thursday, April 04, 2013

Middle of a dream




We are running, despite no gravity
on this road to nowhere
We are in someplace strange
that could be heaven or hell
There's no way of knowing
in the absence of signboards. 
But i'm feeling, i'm feeling
feeling so hard, 
and falling
and reeling
and flying
all at once.
My fingers are locked in yours
(but who are you, again?)
this is surely the middle of a dream.

The dream sits heavy
on the palm of my hand
(so soft, so unbearably soft)
and sometimes it cozies up
on the tip of my tongue
(so sweet, so searingly sweet)
Bits of heaven strung together
on a string of endless hours
being passed from your mouth to mine
from your hand to mine
but I still don't know who you are
what this place is
or where we are headed
this is surely the middle of a dream.

We are sitting now, floating now
by and in a rainbow river
counting stars like lovers do
and laughing at what lovers do
eternities are passing,
without the trappings of life
no birth, no shame, no want, no death
My fingers are still locked in yours
Your identity still a mystery
this place as unfamiliar
this place as desirable
this is surely the middle of a dream.

Don't wake me up yet.

.

2 comments:

Reema Prasanna said...

And me too. Don't wake me up.

Urmi Chanda Vaz said...

Stay, my darling. Sleep, dream as long as it takes for you to heal. When you awaken, I will be there.