When clouds become flock of sheep...










When clouds become flock of sheep...
Your thoughts become fallen leaves...
I dream about a weird tree...
That is never green...


When dew drops load their weight on nights...
Struggling to dilute as lights arise...
Forming crystals of silver on broken leaves...
Shining like diamonds bright.

Unwrapped day in buds of blue...
Turning pots of uncooked stew...
Flames of heat simmering then...
To cook all day long then.


Propelled by the rising Sun...
Increasing heights till up it hung...
Then slowly sliding towards the end...
In cool waters laying far at end.


The night dilutes its blue black ink
Letting those trapped fireflies twinkle
As the breeze sighs every now and then
The moon stands still in masked silence.


Dreams emerge like ghosts
Entering the sleeping corpses
Touching their quiet hollowness
Filling with sounds of forgotten voices.


When clouds become flock of sheep...
Entering the borderless skies
Your dreams they bring and take
Across my uncountable nights.



Image www.123RF.com


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