Cradle of Dreams

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A love poem. Written for you...

Submitted: May 31, 2008

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Submitted: May 31, 2008

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There are people you come across
Once, in a lifetime
And the encounter strums on your heart
Like guitar strings
So that you can’t stop singing
About the experience
It is music that gushes through my lips
When I speak of you
My life is branded with the imprint of your own life
It is an angel that I see
When I look at your image
It is the love scene in a romantic movie
When I dream of you and me
It is the poetry of Deepak Chopra
When I write to and about you
It is an indefinite stay in Purgatory
When I wait for your response
But when you write me, when I read your words
I am like a prisoner reprieved from a death sentence
Your voice through the miles
Settles around me like a garment
Of purest silk
It settles my soul as a mother quietens her feverish child
Its sound is a raft on which I float
Along the river of memory
Back, before birth, into paradise
The things you say excite me
They relieve me of years
And I am 10 again
Knowing nothing of wars and overthrown governments

Or the pain of mortal loss, of being loved but not able to love in return, of life-

Which is actually a slow dying-
This life that we are living
I am a ravenous wolf
And my diet is tales of the possibility
Of this that flowers now between us
I like it
I love it
But what is it?
And why is it that when I mention it
I present myself in bad light
And you are acutely aware of me?
I become a thorn to stroke the succulence of your awareness
What I inspire in you is a stranger dressed in bright orange
That stands out in the crowd of your blue-tinted emotions
A looming presence in the aquamarine
World you have painted around yourself
I am like a sniper, suddenly
On a hillside teeming with fat calves
My intent is glaring
I am unremorseful; I want to kill all your doubts
Poacher that I am
I want you to let go
Though the fall is a steep one
I want you to cling unto me
As the wind snatches away your resolve
Whining through your hair
With reality spread jaggedly below us
Rushing nearer nearer nearer still
You do not see it, but this parachute will open soon
Our landing will be a soft one
A brave new world awaits us
That place which the heart speaks of eloquently
One turn, three miles, and a stream
Beyond public opinion
The oasis in the desert of mundane repetitive
Rituals of living
Come, drink of it
It is the water of dreams
That injects colour and melodies into the world
Turning it into a Klimmt painting, a tune by Marvin Gaye
To hug, yet break, and then mend the heart
I have shown no one else this place
I have concealed it well with a camouflage of grins
And with riddles, bent the road far from it
But for you I would sprinkle petals of celandines and roses
Right up to its mouth
I would draw a drink for you with these manicured hands
All these I would do even from so far away
Distance listens to me
Cultures, religions, public opinion

These will become stepping stones across the miles

All things take off first
Before they spring into reality
From this vale where memory works magic
This vale called the Vale
Of the vast Cradle of DreamsEnd


© Copyright 2017 Oxymandias. All rights reserved.

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