Saturday, February 07, 2009


Where will go and hide from me?

In words, or music or in art,
Or in selfless acts
That dissolve and melt,
Your own self,
That being known as my 'you',

From that you whom I know
Like the palm of my hand,
From that you I read,
From every change in voice?

Where will you hide from me?
I do not know you at all now,
For you are my stranger,
Whom I have never met,
Except in some dream,
Where it was nice to feel free,
Float and come back,
With firm feet on the ground.

On the ground with feet firm,
But where are those little wings
Those little dreams,
To turn this refuge alive?

Waking up is never real,
Without a faint feel,
Of a dream just made true.


4_vAva said...
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4_vAva said...

gud work.......

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