The realities of walls and a roof

As I lay there looking at the stars…
I thought of the countless men and women,
who might have layed there the same way,
looking at the sky and those twinkling stars

Some of them in the not so distant past
might have been like me
escaping their roof for the sky

Some long long ago into
the unreachable past of my mind
might have been here because
the sky was their only roof
and the world one big room
and all people one big family

As I lay down there and
stared at the sky I wondered
if I will wake up and see no borders,
no walls that separate us

And that we will all lie down
looking at the sky and become truly
the children of our ancestors

Then a cold wind brushed by and
a rain drop fell on me.
I got up and wiped it and
ran into my house.
the weather channels are no good
I murmured…..
I switched on the heater
and jumped into my bed and
pulled over my blanket and slept….

That night I dreamed about someone
whose blanket was all torn
not far away from my roof and walls
he was piling cardboards
to make something to cover him
because his blankets can
see through him

And when he look at the sky,
he does not see the stars….
only the rain drops that drizzle
as if he had not paid
his rent to live
in this one room world
this one family world
this world without borders
and without walls to separate

If you say his rent prices had risen
way up above the roof, then
that would be an understatement….

I don’t know when that dream ended
but I did sleep well like a coward
dreaming to the soothing rain outside…

Next day I woke up a coward again
yet another day and
like any other day
may be I even drove past
the same pile of cardboard
beneath which,
I never cared to look…

Lying down and looking at the sky
one can think about anything…
one can talk against the world
against the roof, the walls
and borders…..
as long as one can run inside some
roof and walls
when it rains…

Sometimes it is easy to speak,
to write and even to dream because
the realities you speak against
come only in your dreams
and your reality is way better
than the dreams you sleep to; and yet
you claim to know more about those
who have to cover their every dreams,
every single day from
the rain, the sky and the sun
you enjoy in your comforts….

such is the cowardly existence
of being awake and asleep
between a dream and reality.
we don’t always like what we
see when we look inside us
but we need to force that look inside
before we confront and complain
what is outside…..

Categories: Poetry

Tags: , ,

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