We'Re Dreaming Dream's, the Poet's Dream So Pure

O Mother! O Mother! Don’t scold us for painting the sky. Don’t curse us for sleeping in the garden all day long under the blue sky bewitching. We’re not idle. We’re not lazy. We’re dreaming dreams, the poet’s dream so pure. O, my Mother! Allow us to kiss the dream’s holy lips. O how very wonderful, O how very wonderful it is! It’s a poet’s dream. “Ah! What a life the poet leads!” Playing with the thoughts, filling them with colors of the emotion as they change. Poet’s as the pond, never stagnate. They live, arousing thoughts all new, lit with the fickle lamps of laughter and tears. O Mother! O Mother! Don’t scold us for painting the sky. Don’t curse us for sleeping in the garden all day long under the blue sky bewitching. We’re not idle. We’re not lazy. We’re dreaming dreams, the poets dream so pure. O, my Mother! Allow us to witness the heavenly marriage between the oxygen ff our dreams, and the hydrogen of our realities. We are poets too! We’ve been scaling every mountain of pain and sailing every sea of happiness boarding the plane of our dreams. O Mother! O Mother! Let us dream. Buffer against stress self- medication We dream. O My child! If only I could think as you. If only I could dream as you. “If dreaming you are not, dream are you yourself,” O Mother! O My child! Many a dream is born, and many a dreams dies, but life’s way eternally the same. Life is nature’s own naturalness, where hopes are drowned in the sea of miseries, where illusion is more powerful than logic and logic than the dream. Yet dreams are dreams, O Mother! There is no heart where it is not There is no mind where it is not. Even Leonardo Da Vinci’s brush paused momentarily on the Mona Lisa lips, to let her dream - to let her dream. O’ Mother! O’ Mother! Let us dream together you and I Heaven and Earth are yet to be one. Are yet to be one. Copyright 2007 Bhuwan Thapaliya