To the sky that listens and
the night that dreams,
To the words that breathe in a
poem, that screams.
To the skylines shimmering with
the twinkling stars,
And the whole universe which
we call, ours.
With the bag full of pixie dust,
Hours of star-gazing make us realize that
we are just a speck of stardust.
The beauty in tragedy of the fallen leaves
of the autumn,
Words that cut deeper than
the ocean’s bottom.
Roses, lilies, redwood, cherry blossoms
tall palms and pines,
Turning the world as magical as
our bones and spines.
The unending coastline horizons stretching
with the brushed palms,
Spreading the limitless wonders
in tokens and charms.
In the unseen places where the
Clinging upon it, in between the air
and our deeds.
In poems and dreams do they seek,
the tragic of the poets and
the magic of their dreams.