A Dream in the Breeze

After a particularly difficult day, 

I like to spend the night on the terrace

Yes, even in winters 

When the wound is in your heart 

The coldness outside can only wrap around like a blanket 

Comforting 

Like the calmness that comes with the peaceful nature of the night 

Nature can't bear to harm an already injured child of hers.

It is during these times 

That memories come back to me 

Some people say that they see their memories in a certain colour 

I don't 

Mine come as they were When they first happened

Vivid, all in the original colours 

As if trying to make me feel 

The happiness, sadness, anger or excitement 

I felt back then

After all, we counter emotion with emotion... 

If not memories, 

It's thoughts that surround me 

Thoughts of "What if" and "When and How" 

Some people think that "What ifs" have no point 

But I have realised, that every step we take 

Is motivated by a "What if" 

My what ifs all point to a life I find myself often thinking about, 

What if there were no factions in a family 

What if the walls did not always have ears? 

What if there was no one lurking in the shadows? 

What if when one fell, all ran to pull him up?

What if one stepped forward to be a ray of hope, without expecting a "future repayment?" 

What if we let the colours of nature touch our hearts? 

What if let love defeat selfish rationality? 

What if we let compassion defeat greedy self interest? 

What if we let empathy defeat disgust-led disrespect 

What if we led new understanding defeat long borne hatred? 

What if we did not hurry along, and let the sweet compulsion of enjoying the journey delay us a bit?

What if we learnt to trust, forgetting how we were once taught to distrust? 

What if we tried to heal, before we attempted to kill? 

When I think of these What ifs

The night air gently caresses my face 

And something whispers in my ears 

That would indeed be a beautiful world 

Because then we would let the beauty reach us 

The peace reach us 

Because then we would stop by

To see the flowers in full bloom 

The world in colour 

And not just in black and white 

Like we were long taught to 

Or were forced by circumstance, to learn. 

And as I slightly sway in the cool breeze,

This is the dream that gently paints the world of my fantasies.