In Front of the Church Gate

I had a dream last night fogged by an uneven frost of the morning guessing if the sun rose. It dawned on me it was night still with forehead engulfed by the fallen hair. I figured her out against wealthy gold streaks of sky while flowers kept merrying in the garden. Sitting cross-legged in the pavement She awaited a long cherished arrival; the pavement turning BLACK , white Black , WHITE Wh… Time danced on the cross roads with a series of its resonant restrained movements. Its hand drew out for me and I trying to grab them found the sun shining illuminating everything except shadow of my own construction. The very next moment ate up its hands and shadow intermingled with the silent darkness. Vehicles tossed up the roads flooding the pavement with light Yet, Alterations marked the vivacity of vagueness to fathom the unfathomable and fragmented mirth wetted me from within. Perhaps, WHITE would make my shadow flee, I thought. Sitting there, she snatched stars from the moonless sky and buried in the boisterous soil. I climed up the hill and fell from the precipice and she followed like unshed tears of void eyes. I kept stringing up my instrument as I had only songs to offer that of my own disintegration And she stood in front of the church-gate in deathly austerity. The deity rose in protest, Melodies evolved from the ocean-cradle -filling the air with its uncommon pitch and my songs kept straying in the corner looking for fortification. I dreamt then- trees stretching themselves upright trying to peep into heaven: Deep fragrance of incences rising where I stood draped in WHITE praying with vague distrust. …….. ‘AMEN’ …….. I rose from the bed rubbing my eyes and at the breakfast table I sat dismayed as I remembered all.