Homecoming

Clutching the endless fickle dreams
Close to my bosom,
I sit.
As though waiting for someone dear
My eyes stray
Into nothingness.

I hold the rain in every drop
Of my soul.
And as the fresh aroma of dawn
Shakes me awake, Frantic,
I search for traces
Of waterlogged dreams.

In the warmth of the sun,
I bask,
On summer noons.
In the vicinity, I find
The melt of my dreams,
Gleam as waxy mirages,
Lost.

Once again, wide awake
I listen,
To the melody of seamless waters.
As the salty moist breeze
Embrace me,
My senses dissolve into a silent murmur
And I hear the call,
Of the forlorn heart.

The symphony of a sweet homecoming
Cradles a new splurge,
Of Life.

And I weave a handful of fickle dreams,
Once again.