A Dream Comes True Poem by Aminath Neena

Last spring
I plucked the fungal weeds
From my deserted heart
So much like a graveyard
And planted some flower seeds
In the hope that they will bloom
With the arrival of this spring
And sure enough, they did
inside the loopy chamber
Where before the minefield
Of hurt had burnt its coal
With yesterday's remnant ember
And the cold snowy tears
That had made a deep blue pool
Had gradually drained away
In its place, sweet tube rose dwelled
Alluring their silky pink grace
Succumbing to a lush landscape
Over a musical fountain
Playing a symphonic orchestra
At the edge of which smiled
A glazed moon dipped mansion
Embroidered with pearls and organza
Its doorways glittered and sparkled
Edged with flamboyant frilly curtains
And right there on the doorstep
With arms raised forward and bedazzled
Inhaling the heady scent
Of sweet myrrh
Stood my patient prince
Ready to twirl me into the stars
And my heart just skipped a beat