A Fistful of Dreams

The end of everything is a start
Or start, the prologue to an epilogue
A loop wound in circles of webs
An infinity of ends and starts

 

Yesterday I dreamt you standing at the cross-roads
Waving your hands at me across the span
Of vehicular congestion, the expanse
Wherein the heart expands, in restless anticipation...
The webs of the curls of your wavy hair
That blew uninhibited in the scorching Sun
You, of the graceful poise, and reckless passion

 

Like the first harvest drenched in the last of rains
Like the last rays of the Sun before a moonless night
Like a hint of joy after a lifetime of pain
Like a glimpse of You before You get out of sight
Like a scar on my body, an indelible stain

 

© Sid, 2015