Secret Of My Dreams

Every day, a new story comes in my dreams.

And explains all the secrets of her joys & screams,

An unseen face,

An unheard race,

An unsolved case,

And introduce me to a totally unknown place.

The next morning that story becomes real,

Meets me in as if I am watching a serial, 

In the search of some meaning,

Or discussing it's hidden feeling,

Or an untold secret into its revealing,

& Then waiting for my verdict as a final hearing.

By evening those characters flow into my story, 

Align automatically in the pages of my diary

Sometimes as prose,

Somedays like movie shows,

Somewhere like dancing shadows,

It finally turns to a verse and sleeps in my composing.

Like a beautiful flower blooming in silent meadows.

The next day, A new dream and A new story to expose...