When the beats are low and visions are light,
Often, in my dreams, I see an unseen sight.
Through nervous passage to uneasy chore,
My anxious sensation does open the door.
It’s vast and beautiful; the pure and divine,
I blink my eyes, and wonder, if it’s mine.
If crawl or run; me, the clueless, a new born,
Perhaps, too insane to anticipate due morn.
The wind, the guide, and few lessons to fly,
Though fledge less flight; I measure the sky.
Chasing your foot marks, scattered over sea;
You; the noble, the glorified or that’s only me!
Sudden twist and turn; it’s fortune-wheel,
A loud, reechoing call back; rising in peal.
Let me be stay here; I beg, I cry and request,
But destiny arrives, along with never easy test.
Either endless peace or desires extreme,
An inauspicious pick, the end of my dream.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.