Dreams in a dreary life

I walk miles in the desert, days in the scorching sun. I come upon a cactus plant with droplets of water in its leaves.

I traverse the parched land, the ground broken up by dryness, the sand crackled. I look up at a lone cloud, feel a raindrop fall on my nose and run to my lips. I am rejuvenated and walk on with hope.

I walk on in silence, not a sound to be heard. I stop to listen, isn’t anyone talking to me? Then I hear it, a faint music pleasant to the ears. I search for the source, can’t find one. Then I realize it is the music playing in my head, out of the vast expanses of my memories which is all I have.

I walk down a lane, there are a hundred people walking with me. Yet I was alone on the inside. Then one of them looked at me and I felt connected. For the first time I saw the crowd around me and felt one with the world.

I was drenched in the rain, never felt the cold. I was warm on the inside, by the heart that was beating. But the thought of losing what I love made me sweat, and I felt the cold rain for the first time.

Thinking of love, my thoughts flow, the words form, my hands move, the pen writes and the sonnet manifests by itself. Love made me a poet, a writer, a fool, the wise, a dreamer, an achiever. This is what I dream in a dreary life.