The Wandering dreamer
---johnsonvdev, India

Like riding on waves wavering....not sure
where it takes me... Searching for a log
just to hold on, but helpless and alone
slumber, how I wish a day's sleep.
To keep everything aside, and rest,
in my beloved’s lap, that warm lap.
In the wilderness, searching for oasis
will I reach it before die of thirst
or will I be buried in unfulfilled dreams.

I feel like a fallen feather, fallen from a bird-
on its course, discarded and left to rot
when none fancied it to preserve.

Its night again, pitch dark and dead silent
I fear, a cold chill passes through my spine
it spreads and chokes me like a python
I can not move, I am being pushed to oblivion
A faint memory that I knew a day of love
the celestial fragrance, I recognize it of before
no., I am not alone, I have memories so fond
enough for me to live for years, sweet memories
like resurrection, risen from the dead.

The silence have thousand tongues
the audible silence of a forgotten living
told in a lovers song, life of the lonely
the long ride of a dreamer, pangs of the fatigued
the long hours of chatting, the sweet lovemaking
the joy of belonging, hug. provoking feeling deep
and a peaceful rest, in the arms of the beloved.

The morning sun, a bright day on a spring
while winter not far away, the naked trees-
shy, rushing to cover with new foliage
song of the cuckoos, echo of a distant church bell
the green creepers waving to the farmers
the dews, shining diamonds in dawn rays
the gurgle sound of the sparkling stream
the thickets and chirping of love birds
smell of raw earth, ants lined in order
the herdsman and cattle, heading for pastures
silhouette of the far away mount dressed in snow
the hoof sound of a horse and its all fine dear.
But on a lonely day its all natures wasted gift
for my beloved is away and I live in a dream
wandering to find love, ignorant where to search
where it is lost and from where to retrieve
where can I find it than in your own heart.
My life now a song of a loser, hymn of a priest-
who buries the dead in the cold, a whisper -
of the devil, the thorns in thickets
a mistake of the master, stain on the moon.

Yet wish to love my life, only if you are there
even the mirage formed within by memories so old
make me wander miles even in arid desert alone
where the sun buries all his fuel and burn.

I sustain on dreams, I wander on its wings
living! A faint feeling now, the heart is dried
but somewhere there is just a feeble throb
a throb that lost the rhythm and speed
just waiting for your sweet breath to spurt.
Johnsonvdev

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oh! I just went on.. and its a bit long... could not help it..
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No need to apologize for such a fine work. I do feel like I’m riding a wave.
I want to say a sort of internal monologue or stream of consciousness work but in saying that I know that that is not exactly correct. Perhaps it’s more like one of Roethke’s later works.. A “far Field for example”. In any event I read it several times and enjoyed it very much
Namaskar
Jake