Sometimes I visit
That place of reverie
Where time is not true
And thoughts don’t behave
As they are supposed to.
Old dreams dance hand in hand
With desires not yet born,
Secrets and feelings
Chat quietly
Among themselves
Remembering things
That never happened.
Mysterious paths lead me
To familiar places
Never visited before.
And I don’t know
If I am home
Or I am homeless.
Music sings to the light,
And the heart learns
To drown the pain of love lost
In the memories of love had.
Like morning mist dissipating
When kissed by early sunlight.
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Author:
Dasim (
Offline) - Published: October 23rd, 2020 12:39
- Comment from author about the poem: We tend to construct realities for ourselves, and sometimes they become permanent. I wrote this to remind myself that this need not be the case and it is possible to escape them, at least temporarily.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 54
- Users favorite of this poem: dusk arising
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Comments2
Now that is a beautiful piece of work sir! What wonderful things our dreams, be they daydreams or other, truly are. I marvel at the imagined places and people my dream self has constructed for i know i revisit them, pure fantasy as they are, time and again.
You really capture the mosaic of a dream with your snatches dreamworlds dance with one's senses here. I really really like this piece.
A MUST for my favourites. You've made my day.
Thank you!
Super words Dasim, our dreams and reality can meet and bring such wonder to our lives.
Andy
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