what if there comes a day
when you stop learning and start forgetting what you’ve learnt?
would you be satisfied that you have spent your life learning
and have something that is yours,
even if to forget?
or saddened at not knowing all there was to learn?
what if there comes a day
when you realize that your dreams may never come true?
would you be sad, knowing that you would never
dream another dream?
or enlightened that they were meant to be dreamt
and the inspiration for everything you achieved?
what if there comes a day
when you finally have to admit that you lack the talent?
to play that awesome riff on your guitar
would you grow your hair, pierce your ears and start a garage band?
or would you enjoy the thrill
of pleasant rhythmic strumming?
what if there comes a day
when you know you’re never going to own that red Ferrari?
would you rue the fact that you were never good enough
to achieve what you had always wanted?
or look back and see
all the wonderful things you’ve seen and enjoyed?
what if there comes a day
when you realize you’re closer to the end than the beginning?
would you have lived your life the way that you wanted to
or in the shadow of another?
would you worry about the long way down?
or savour the moment, poised on the edge of the pinnacle?
- satyajit venkatraman
24th February 2011
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dreams. Show all posts
nowhere road
outside the window there’s a path,
across the mountain to the other side.
clouds all around swirling in the night,
capturing all in their velvet clutches.
leaf-strewn steps lead ahead
pines, oaks and maples everywhere its green.
a stream gushes from a source unseen
a bed of pebbles like crystal in the water.
the stream becomes a river,
down the rapids and through the falls.
yellow fields – sunflowers dancing in the wind
with no care of life or time.
rich, sweet smells in the air,
chirping birds drown out all other sound.
fertile pastures everywhere around
speak of affluence and prosperity.
nowhere road is going to take me home
with the waves at my feet and spray in my face.
nowhere road is going to take me home
where the grass is green on both sides.
nowhere road is going to take me home
where snowy mountain peaks sparkle like a million soft fragments of pleasure.
the river loses strength, the land becomes dry
and majestic waves of golden sand rise.
dust in the wind and sand in my face
covering everything around in a coat of gold.
the desert is a masquerade for gold, oil
and wealth for all alluring.
dunes shifting and ever changing
revealing richness of life and lessons from ages past.
endless sands fade into shores of a vast sea;
hypnotising rhythm of the surf, the breath of power.
a gentle, sleeping giant
preserving the immense force within.
hidden under the sheen of soothing waves
brilliant walls of vibrant coral, full of life and forever boundless.
deeper still lie dark caves, creatures ancient and timeless
tell a tale of ages past, of freedom, simplicity and trust.
nowhere road is going to take me home
with the waves at my feet and spray in my face.
nowhere road is going to take me home
where the grass is green on both sides.
nowhere road is going to take me home
where snowy mountain peaks sparkle like a million soft fragments of pleasure.
from the depths of the ocean comes a surge
of walls of mountains breaking through the surface,
the water wanes after a brief struggle
content to chip away at the surface for centuries of ascendancy.
majestic they rise above all now for all to admire,
a crest of silvery snow for a crown.
in a panorama of mountain, ocean and pastures overgrown
lies a man entranced in his dream.
nowhere road is going to take me home
with the waves at my feet and spray in my face.
nowhere road is going to take me home
where the grass is green on both sides.
nowhere road is going to take me home
where snowy mountain peaks sparkle like a million soft fragments of pleasure.
satyajit venkatraman
january 2010
across the mountain to the other side.
clouds all around swirling in the night,
capturing all in their velvet clutches.
leaf-strewn steps lead ahead
pines, oaks and maples everywhere its green.
a stream gushes from a source unseen
a bed of pebbles like crystal in the water.
the stream becomes a river,
down the rapids and through the falls.
yellow fields – sunflowers dancing in the wind
with no care of life or time.
rich, sweet smells in the air,
chirping birds drown out all other sound.
fertile pastures everywhere around
speak of affluence and prosperity.
nowhere road is going to take me home
with the waves at my feet and spray in my face.
nowhere road is going to take me home
where the grass is green on both sides.
nowhere road is going to take me home
where snowy mountain peaks sparkle like a million soft fragments of pleasure.
the river loses strength, the land becomes dry
and majestic waves of golden sand rise.
dust in the wind and sand in my face
covering everything around in a coat of gold.
the desert is a masquerade for gold, oil
and wealth for all alluring.
dunes shifting and ever changing
revealing richness of life and lessons from ages past.
endless sands fade into shores of a vast sea;
hypnotising rhythm of the surf, the breath of power.
a gentle, sleeping giant
preserving the immense force within.
hidden under the sheen of soothing waves
brilliant walls of vibrant coral, full of life and forever boundless.
deeper still lie dark caves, creatures ancient and timeless
tell a tale of ages past, of freedom, simplicity and trust.
nowhere road is going to take me home
with the waves at my feet and spray in my face.
nowhere road is going to take me home
where the grass is green on both sides.
nowhere road is going to take me home
where snowy mountain peaks sparkle like a million soft fragments of pleasure.
from the depths of the ocean comes a surge
of walls of mountains breaking through the surface,
the water wanes after a brief struggle
content to chip away at the surface for centuries of ascendancy.
majestic they rise above all now for all to admire,
a crest of silvery snow for a crown.
in a panorama of mountain, ocean and pastures overgrown
lies a man entranced in his dream.
nowhere road is going to take me home
with the waves at my feet and spray in my face.
nowhere road is going to take me home
where the grass is green on both sides.
nowhere road is going to take me home
where snowy mountain peaks sparkle like a million soft fragments of pleasure.
satyajit venkatraman
january 2010
dream
there was this guy, just a simple fellow,
enough above and enough below
opened his eyes one morning
and said to himself, while stretching and yawning
“how long have i been asleep?
and are those hours mine to keep?”
he had taken his life where the winds blew
and didn’t realize how fast time flew.
he had not read his life’s text
twenty one day and fifty the next.
“thirty years gone by as one,
how did i miss all the fun?”
as far as he could remember
he was full of life, be it March, July or December.
off to work he would go
eager to give his all and grow.
“you’re a great guy they said,
nothing to stop you from getting ahead.”
day after year of his life went by
he worked, he worked, all he would do was try.
he did what he could and always thought
that he was not the best but better than a lot.
“did that make sense at all?
or was it just to soften the fall?”
stuck in a rut of a life so cluttered
he never rose above to see what really mattered.
it was his strength and also his weakness
that he didn’t see the danger, the depth and the darkness.
“was it so since the beginning?
or, all the while, become more threatening?”
into his life people came and from it people went
he never stopped to ask what it meant.
they know what they want just like i do
part of the plan, like the one for himself he drew.
“is that how i got to where I am today?
weary at night and tired by day.”
all that happens around him he doesn’t understand
strange people with strange habits in a strange land.
a small fish in a big ocean he has become
and he can only hear the constant hum.
“it’s the water, you know
just like me, going where the pipes want it to go.”
it really was only in his mind
the hum of a toy, the kind you could wind.
running along, swift at first but grinding to a halt
just running out of steam but without a fault.
“i am that wind-up toy,
old, plastic, and of no use even to the little boy.”
how long had he been asleep?
and were all those hours his to keep?
twenty, strong and all his life before
he realizes as the alarm drowns his snore.
“although very real it did seem
it was all just a dream!”
now feeling refreshed, he awakes
as above the horizon the sun breaks.
off to work he went forgetting
all about the dream he had and, at the end of the day expecting,
“you’re a great guy”, they said
nothing to stop you from getting ahead.”
enough above and enough below
opened his eyes one morning
and said to himself, while stretching and yawning
“how long have i been asleep?
and are those hours mine to keep?”
he had taken his life where the winds blew
and didn’t realize how fast time flew.
he had not read his life’s text
twenty one day and fifty the next.
“thirty years gone by as one,
how did i miss all the fun?”
as far as he could remember
he was full of life, be it March, July or December.
off to work he would go
eager to give his all and grow.
“you’re a great guy they said,
nothing to stop you from getting ahead.”
day after year of his life went by
he worked, he worked, all he would do was try.
he did what he could and always thought
that he was not the best but better than a lot.
“did that make sense at all?
or was it just to soften the fall?”
stuck in a rut of a life so cluttered
he never rose above to see what really mattered.
it was his strength and also his weakness
that he didn’t see the danger, the depth and the darkness.
“was it so since the beginning?
or, all the while, become more threatening?”
into his life people came and from it people went
he never stopped to ask what it meant.
they know what they want just like i do
part of the plan, like the one for himself he drew.
“is that how i got to where I am today?
weary at night and tired by day.”
all that happens around him he doesn’t understand
strange people with strange habits in a strange land.
a small fish in a big ocean he has become
and he can only hear the constant hum.
“it’s the water, you know
just like me, going where the pipes want it to go.”
it really was only in his mind
the hum of a toy, the kind you could wind.
running along, swift at first but grinding to a halt
just running out of steam but without a fault.
“i am that wind-up toy,
old, plastic, and of no use even to the little boy.”
how long had he been asleep?
and were all those hours his to keep?
twenty, strong and all his life before
he realizes as the alarm drowns his snore.
“although very real it did seem
it was all just a dream!”
now feeling refreshed, he awakes
as above the horizon the sun breaks.
off to work he went forgetting
all about the dream he had and, at the end of the day expecting,
“you’re a great guy”, they said
nothing to stop you from getting ahead.”
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