In the dream, it seems so real, everything is within your grasp. But the dream vanishes and the reality creeps in. Like Bluebird, I am also guilty of going back to sleep just to see if the dream will come back.
Now, friends, This is something that has come to us all. The essence of poetry is whether and how you can express it. I wrote it from my experience--i seldom go for the imagined--but, how well could I express it? As students, as I too am, I would like you to read this piece by Emily Dickinson, on a theme more or less the same. *****
A thought went up my mind to-day That I have had before, But did not finish,--some way back, I could not fix the year,
Nor where it went, nor why it came The second time to me, Nor definitely what it was, Have I the art to say.
But somewhere in my soul, I know I've met the thing before; It just reminded me--'t was all-- And came my way no more.
8 comments:
Nicely penned.....Meanings beyond words..... Keep blogging, sir.
Is it really important to remember and know what we saw in a dream?
This is very nice!
May be a feeling of eternal beauty that lasted even when the dream was over!
It happened to me a lot of times. Nice to see it written, the feeling, a sense of loss.
I've taken it one step further. Sometimes I try desperately to go back to sleep and see the rest of it.
But who can say where a dream ends?
In the dream, it seems so real, everything is within your grasp. But the dream vanishes and the reality creeps in.
Like Bluebird, I am also guilty of going back to sleep just to see if the dream will come back.
Now, friends,
This is something that has come to us all. The essence of poetry is whether and how you can express it. I wrote it from my experience--i seldom go for the imagined--but, how well could I express it? As students, as I too am, I would like you to read this piece by Emily Dickinson, on a theme more or less the same.
*****
A thought went up my mind to-day
That I have had before,
But did not finish,--some way back,
I could not fix the year,
Nor where it went, nor why it came
The second time to me,
Nor definitely what it was,
Have I the art to say.
But somewhere in my soul, I know
I've met the thing before;
It just reminded me--'t was all--
And came my way no more.
*****
God bless you all.
Venu.
i often wake up to such moments feeling the ecstasy.and wen i realize its nothng but oly the void desperation.. :(
within reach, yet vanishing as you reach out to touch and feel?
longings, forms without shapes, words without the syllables?
extremity, why are you silent these days?
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