The Castle-Builder Poem by Ashaar Shayeri

and once again, I am knotted in time's generous
seconds, hours, and days, like stars,
caught in a snarl of galaxies.
it debilitates me; and yet, I am more
like the wind and less like a prisoner, trapped
in their entanglement. however,
it is beyond me to forever stay ensnared
in its brief indulgences.
but when I'm lost in the middle of my clouds
from a sky far beyond the interminable blue,
carrying me to the far reaches of my imagination,
inadvertently, I become a part of the unimaginable.
I see my subliminal self
chasing after the fulfillment of my
puerile daydreams
to a horizon where night and day meet
but never take over each other
and my lifetime reborns
in a world of unlikely affairs
but only to last for a moment.
I'm pulled back to my original birthland thereafter
(where nature loves to have her way in everything.)
my figments collapse like the pipe dreams
of a seven-year-old. green, intangible, and silent.
but my fancies remain alive, like memories.
each day fetches the sun like a saint,
decimating the fog that confounds
the cerulean in my deepest depths
while each night hauls up stars to the ceiling.

I wait for the hours of day and night
to stagnate in the hours of twilight-
when the sun falls away
with the parting of the day.
I wait with my utopian hopes, starry-eyed as a dreamer,
to hoard a sheaf of sunshine and a handful of stars
in a casket, built from dreams

for when my days will see the darkness of night,
and my nights will no longer be the sanctum
to the stars,
my sky will be a stream
to the confluence of stars and sunlight,
and once again, I will find myself on the horizon
of the inconceivable world,
holding the casket (built from dreams) .
and perhaps,
I will not be there to hoard light,
but to settle among the stars
in those snarls of galaxies.