White Dreams, Blue Dreams

White dreams, blue dreams, my golden dreams…
I see a magic city rise amidst barren cliffs,
Cathedrals replace the hills, children blossom in fields,
Perennial rivers flow through the hungry desert lips,
Little springs push aside giant boulders of granite.
I see priceless diamonds mingled with broken glass and odd bits,
In possession of amateur thieves and treasure hunters.
As in a pantomime I see a pauper walk by in tatters
And a heavenly escort carrying the royal robe and his sceptre.
Behind your agonised face tortured with fury
I see the joy and thrill of an accidental encounter.
The swift point of your bayonet going deep into my heart
Is but love’s tremendous search for a kindred sentiment.
Faded buds discarded on muddy roadsides
Gather on Beauty’s brow as a laurel of evergreen life.
Funny masks, those faces which barely hide the actors,
Still funnier the roles played by those comedians.
To go ahead, they march backwards,
To acquire love, they turn away from the Beloved,
To see and feel the joy of Oneness,
They walk blindfold and cut up their souls
Into unrecognisable twisted segments.
Adieu, black dreams, adieu sad and sombre dreams,
Come blue dreams, white dreams, come happy golden dreams.
Inheritors of Bliss, we can toy with pain and death,
Born out of Love, we must savor its poignant shades
Assured of our single Origin, we sever the roots from the Tree.
The real becomes an illusion with each new awakening,
Each grain of sand in a galaxy contains another star city.
The night conceals in her robes an ever-new unborn sun.
Each waking is a deeper dream,
A blue dream, a white dream and a golden dream.
poem Niranjan Guha Roy
Illustration Christine Alkov

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