I dreamed of him again
He seemed beyond my reach
Too fresh to touch
To aloof to approach
To pure to pollute
I dreamed during the morn
I dreamed during the sun’s peak hours
I dreamed while the moon kept watch
I dreamed of him while the children’s skin turned white,
their lips parched and soles cracked
I dreamed while the farmers threshed their rice
I dreamed while the herdsmen returned northwards
While men trudged and sweated
I drifted in and out of my self conceived haze
When I finally awakened from my slumber
He was far beyond my reach
While I daydreamed, the world and all within it had moved on
Day dreams are useless
The least you could do is write about it!
