The Dream

He gently opened his eyes and the warm sun beat upon his face. He lay among the soft caress of the grass and a gentle wind embraced him. His father sat underneath a tree a few feet way beside the babbling brook.
"You are awake," his father smiled.

"I fell asleep dad."
"You did my son."
"I had a dream dad."
His father rose and sat beside him. "Do you want to tell me about it?"
"It was so real dad. I dreamt of missiles falling from the sky and little kids, even younger than I getting killed and maimed. The world was in a bad state. Millions were poor dad, not even with enough to eat. There were homeless people and destitute. There were huge storms and hurricanes and all types of disasters happening. People were fighting all of the time – over land, possessions, oil and money. Rainforests were dying dad and animals of all types were in danger and the earth was actually heating up! And I dreamt of growing up in this world and I was having happy times and sad times. And I lived a life dad. I did! I had a wife and kids and it was crazy fast you know. Everything went so quickly. And I felt so much. I was scared, full of joy, there was fear and hope. And so many times I felt helpless. And a lot of the time I felt so lonely. Worst of all dad, I didn't know where you were. I kinda knew you were there somewhere and I kept calling out for you. In fact sometimes I gave up hope and told myself that you didn't exist at all. But deep down I had a feeling you were somewhere. As I grew older I stopped searching for you out there and started looking within. Which was strange really but I kinda felt you were a part of me dad just as I was a part of you. It was full on dad and then I just woke up!"
His father looked at him with love in his wise eyes. "That’s some dream son!"
"How long was I asleep dad?"
"Mmmmmm perhaps 5 minutes... not much more."
"Wow! All of that in 5 minutes?"
The son looked knowingly at his dad for awhile.
"Dad that was my first dream."
"I know son... and your last... if you so choose."


"Dad?"


"Yes my son?"
"Did you know I was dreaming?"
"Why yes, of course."
The son reflected on this for a moment.
"So dad, during the bad parts of the dream did you know I was suffering?"

"My son, you may have appeared to be suffering in the dream but were always perfectly safe with me here."
"You could have woken me?"
"I could, but I didn't. You would have woken with a start. It would have been a little frightening for you that way. You gently came out of the dream yourself. You choose to enter the dream state. It is best if you choose to exit."
The son stretched out on the grass.
"Dad?"
"Yes my son."
"I love you."
"I know, my child. We are love."
-By Diarmuid Cronin

The Forgotten Deed

I cry over my fate tonight,
alone with the moon,
and no one in my sight.

Buried now are my dreams,
hope like the shreds of mirror.

I search for my smile tonight,
alone with the moon,
and no one in my sight.

Blessed was my soul,
Aye,thats what I used to think,
until the dawn struck me,
making me realise my mistake.

I shed silent tears for my heart tonight,
alone with the moon,
and no one in my sight.

A sudden thought,with it the forgotten memories,
my past rewinded now.

I self-pity myself tonight,
alone with the moon,
and no one in my sight.

Trapped in my own cocoon,
my lungs crave for some air.

Numb is my body and dead is my soul,
for the betrayal has finally shown its abhorrent face,
and sits beside me now.

I wait for my angel tonight,
alone with the moon
and no one in my sight.

The world is not the same once again,
its color fading once again.
Past knocks on my door,
and my soul trembles once again.
I need the covers of grey clouds,
once again I need to stand in the emptiness alone.
Though I had left the crematorium long back,
the earth takes me to the same place once again.
A place profused of things which causes my dead part to rise up,
a part which I never want to encounter again.
Not that it harms me,
perhaps just takes me down the memory lane once again,
the memories which I had buried long back..
All I can do now is hope that world will change,
that it will have its vibrant color once again.

During the journey of life,you meet many people....with some you have good experiences,with some you have bad experiences,and with some...you have no experience.However,one should be thankful for having met these people....they keep your life moving and well..very much normal.Each and every person you meet,have got some importance which one might not realise untill a very long time..or perhaps never.The truth is,intentionally or unintentionally,the person adds few more pages in your book of life so that it has a proper ending,which otherwise would have been incomplete.Even though,one may feel sometimes that his/her life has stopped.. the fact remains that,its still moving...and you dont even come to know!

"Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around."
- Leo Buscaglia

The Unexpected Betrayal

The fan was moving,

slowly and creakingly.

There was a distinct smell from the previous night,

stale and sweaty.

Her eyes moved towards the right,

she could see the door closed,

and suddenly her eyes were shut,

experiencing throbbing pain all over her body,

her lips trembling with heart-wrenching sobs...

She coiled herself in a cocoon,

trying to hide herself from the painful memory...

Memory of that face,

of the touch of those hands all over her body,

her tears increasing with every passing moment.

The feeling of contempt,

which she so wanted to get rid off,

wouldn't evade her.

She remebered the time she'd spent with him,

during her childhood,

cradled in his arms,

having a soundless sleep over his stomach,

or his encouraging smile,

with that comforting pat over her shoulders...

Were they a facade,

Or maybe it's just a nightmare.

But it wasn't....

Her eyes now swollen with misery,self-disgust and fear.

She remebered the scene of the fateful night,

with it,that virile face,

thought of the fatherly love and caresses,

which turned into something she couldn't understand.

Perhaps,it was a part of growing,

perhaps,it was how things were supposed to be...

However,she wasn't convinced,

her insides a turmoil of over-flowing emotions,

and her body aching with incurable pain,

It was her soul which was destroyed and left barren.

After a few moments,

tired with her self-pity,

she looked towards the left,

and saw the sun rising,

its rays mystically illuminating the room,

and then smiled at herself,

realising the irony of the situation.

Her final smile again covered with hapless and piteous tears...

I have seen the angels cry!

I have thought that angels wore halos and wings of white,

but now I find they wear hats,

and black coats with yellow stripes.

And angels,in my mind,

wore long flowing gowns of white.

But now,I see dark pants and shirts,

and badges shining bright.

And angels always floated,

with bare feet above the ground.

Not true!For they wear steel toed boots,

and go where death is found.

Not all angels have smooth hands that look like porcelain.

Some angels have torn gloves,

and cuts and burns upon their skin.

And while I thought all angels glowed from heavens light,

I see an angel cutting steel,

his torch is shining bright,

and while these earthly angels passed buckets of debris,

the angels up in heaven,

looked down on bended knee.

So while the smoke continued to rise in the sky,

I watched the rescue workers weep,

I've seen the angels cry.

(This poem was taken from the website www.kissedbyanangel.com)