Food for Thought

It’s queer how small instances,
Which had gone unnoticed once,
Suddenly reach the bottoms of your heart,
Raking up emotions, pent-up for a long time,
Wanting to burst out, like tears from a baby,
Who’s not eaten, or probably not slept.
Dreams sometimes show you the path,
Tell you the solutions, give you answers,
That you’ve been trying to find for long,
It’s like a treasure hunt,
That you keep playing with your conscious mind,
All the time unaware,
That the player himself is wrong,
And that you should sometimes play,
And try to converse with the subconscious too.
A sand castle, in the heat,
Getting washed down by the warm waters,
The same waters, don’t they turn chilly at night,
Freezing the air above it?
See through it, see how transparent it is,
And how even then its depth remains unmeasured.
For those who drown, know not those who float.
Food for thought,
Would it be better to drown such instances,
Deep into the sea of your thoughts,
Or should you keep them afloat,
Like carcasses in the river,
To be haunted by them against the light of the moon?


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