What was desert-reality

is fading away

in the foggy haze

of a dream.

What’s rising

is a little emerald oasis

of happy trees

where laughter

hangs like bunch of berries.

I have hunger-

I have thirst-

for I have been walking

in sandstorms since ages.

Yet they roam,

haunt the streets

to uproot dreams.




Posted for Poetry Pantry @ Poets United



25 thoughts on “Dream

  1. Though your poem goes quickly from joy to despair, yet it has a gentle touch, a magical feel, and beauty in the wording. May these qualities prevail in life as well as art!

  2. That “little emerald oasis of trees” sounds like heaven to me. The sandstorms of life however must be borne before we get there. I can see from the other comments how much this poem has affected your readers.

  3. “What’s rising
    is a little emerald oasis
    of happy trees
    where laughter
    hangs like bunch of berries.” Oh, yes! Beautiful! It’s so much easier to find the hunger and thirst that seem to be everywhere in one form or another.

  4. Oh my. This echoes a dream I had a couple of years ago, wandering around in a sand storm and looking into windows of deserted yellow houses. This poem is much better than my dream! I love the “emerald oasis rising” the happy trees….the finding of the happy trees….

  5. Interesting poem. Sandstorms of life abound.We need some respite from them which only seems to last a short time but still appreciated when it happens.

Thank You :)

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