I AM YOUR DREAM...

 Sitting on a bench

by the dark waters of the flowing river

feet resting on the wet grass

I blow soap bubbles

into the dark grey sky

and watch them vanish

transparent, colourless

see-through bubbles

empty – as if they were not there.

different sizes.

some burst at birth

others live out their short lives.

 

thus life flowed on

blowing soap bubbles

and seeing them burst.

until the mail came

like a burst of sunshine

through the darkening clouds

 

it's another day now

the water is clear

there’s a song in the river

what appeared as wet grass

is now grass covered with sparkling dewdrops.

 

I still blow the soap bubbles

one at a time

and it does not burst at birth.

it takes on the sun’s hues

sparkling, colourful, enchanting.

it keeps growing

reaching out to the sunshine

inviting – come reach out to me

for I am not a bubble any more

for I am your dream.

~Khwab~

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