Dream And Realty Poem by Mohabeer Beeharry

I have waited by the river.
There I spin the wheel of my life.
The water runs.
So do the threads of my life.

They come in all colours,
some in the colours of smiles,
others of tears

I am not the banks,
But like them, I glow
And also I lose my shine.

I am not the water,
But like it, this frame cries, fumes and rebels
And now and then
I stomp in youthful showers of blessings.

Still there is a mystery.
Caught into a cold vertiginous motion,
I spin and spin.

I make dreams, I paint the sky in brilliant colours
And I thought that they would run for ever.
Now and then when the weather is fair though,
I dance on the dangling ropes of inebriating joys,
And for a while forget.
Yes, I forget.

I am not bad.
I love the one who once with lots of love
Made me like himself
And said, go and be happy.

I wonder then of what mettle life is made
That it is so frail, always at the mercy of a whiff of breeze!
If I could only hold on to the flowers,
How happy I would be to skip the thorns!

Some say I cry too much,
But I long to be happy too!
I say to myself,
Do not forget and learn from the tears,
But enjoy the smiles while ye may too.