Your dreams tumble,
Caught by delicate
Silver cobwebs.
Time slips by, and you think
You have only so much time,
Desperate, seeking,
Running out of the time
That you have allowed yourself,
To find your dreams, shaped into real things,
Things you can hold.
But dreams are star dust
And they sprinkle
Over your universe
Of limitations,
Soft and brittle,
Luster dust from long ago.
And before you know,
It’s time to go,
And your dreams are scoffing
At you, tired and miserable
You lie under that gravestone,
Counting numbers
That never end,
That expand and stretch,
Like desires,
Scathing you out of your reveries,
Another chance,
Another life,
Star dust over your eyes,
Chains on your legs,
Self imprisoned victims of time,
How many deaths will you die?
Reema Prasanna is a Search Engine Marketing expert, Xoogler, baking expert and blogger. More about her here http://about.me/reema.prasanna
In ur past, this present,this now, was the future n u dreamed of it. And now ie in this present u are again dreaming for the future.
And when that future will arrive u would again be dreaming.
I’ve always wondered whether one shd remain happy in one’s dreams or one shd remain grounded with one’s realities, encounter them,face them. I feel so confused.
I prefer just being, with enthusiasm, action, hope and surrender. Its the only thing to do anyway.