A Beautiful Dream

The gust of wind
Swept the pages of the book
That's weathered its journey with me,
All these years,
The sepia shades telling its story,
But the pages hadn't given up -
Much like me!

The whiff of breeze by the window,
Brought along a freshness
with a slight nip in the air,
That lit up a warm feeling,
You could tell the happiness,
it rang in from the glimmer,
But tough it was to tell
if it was imagination,
Or, memories that never were.

The wafts of breeze,
By the speechless stream,
Had a special tenderness,
As it kissed a serene touch, of silk,
Of an ephemeral bliss,
A momentary smell of earth,
and a crimson dusk,
That stirred up waves of emotions,
And you could feel
the gush of blood up my face,
As a hand tightly clasped mine,
And glances
that sometimes locked with mine,
And feet that were never in a hurry,
Just slow enough, to lockstep mine
On one of the long walks,
I never did!

The sooty smell that slapped my face,
Were so welcome,
As they ring in memories,
Of the train journeys,
the smell of earth
And the sun
setting across dancing paddy fields,
Or call them sparks of wild imagination,
Of strands that dreams are made of,
They made me smile,
Smile about little nothings,
That I indulged in so much,
Until a bead escaped my eyes,
To pave way for a line of warmth,
That left a sense of calm on my cheeks,
As my eyes refused to return
from the world of
A beautiful dream!

© Sashikant Mohanty