Dream

When I woke up this morning, my eyes were moist,
Though for a moment the reason eluded me,
But then it hit me, it had been you,
Crying in the dream.

I had held you close to me,
So close that your breath became mine,
So close that a salty taste lingered upon my lips,
There as you laid in my arms, and cried.

I try hard now to remember the details,
But to my dismay, just the tears are clear as day,
Everything else seems so distant,
Hidden, it seems, in the folds of my brain.

People would say, it was just a dream,
But how could I have felt your weight,
On my shoulders, and the wetness of your eyes?
So much so, that I was moved to tears?

I now just rejoice the fact that I held you,
And gave you something to lean on.
Even if I had seen your face, what could I do?
Console you for what you felt in the sub-conscious realm?

I Wait...

As the sun decides that enough is enough,

And starts his journey back home,

I wait, though I know not what for.

Do I wait for the sky to turn black,

And bathe the earth, making it clean?

Or do I sit here idle, waiting,

For the trees to shed the remains of their clothes?

Or do I wait for the earth to be shrouded,

In as white a garment as the color of wisps of cloud,

On a bright and sunny day?

Or do I wait for the sun to blaze in all its glory,

Scorch the earth as if to bake it?

Or do I wait for the Nature to show that everything,

Everything that we have lost over the year,

Can in fact come back?

That the world again shall be green?

That the chirping of birds would still be heard?

That all is not lost but just in hiding till the worst is over?

I wait, though I know not what for.