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The Ship of Dreams

By Archita Mitra


Again today the fiery Sun retires to a weary rest, Again the mighty ship emerges, eager to set sail – The pristine sails, woven out of starlight, Strain impatiently against the wind The crew looks at me askance, “What’s the delay?” their eyes ask.

I stand at the helm and look at the pink twilight sky – I wait for Her. The Lady of the Night benevolently rises in the sky, Dressed in all her silvery splendour. She pulls back her misty veil, To illuminate the path of gold for us. ‘Cast — off!’

My ship descends the sea of light, Towards the waiting sleepy Land. Fascinated I stand and watch: The silken ripples of the clouds, The shy peeping moonbeams, And the stars that twinkle and wink at me – Their good wishes our talisman;

And the waiting lights below. Gradually, we wind our way, Down to the homes where the drowsy children lay – Waiting for me – I pause at their windows, and through the bars, A delicate sigh is all it takes, And the wisps of dreams sail through the room, Brightening up the murky gloom, Settling on the tired eyes.

The Blessing of Peaceful Sleep! Some smile at me through sleepy orbs, And in their dreams they will meet me again, And sail with me through a delightful glen – Where all is possible, all is true, Where you can spread your wings and fly, To the Land of Fantasy.

On some sad ears I will sing a little song, Of all things joyous and beautiful, I will sing of the glory of our Father, Till my music dispels their fears. Yet I know, That as they grow, Sooner or later they will forget me! And a day will come when the bright sand Will drift aimlessly around, And settle aground,

In dusty, unkempt corners. When their minds will become clogged, With logic and facts blocked, And the aura of ‘sense’, Will repel – The soothing balm of fantasy.

And they like their parents, Will scoff at dreams, ‘Such stupid childish things!’ And yet shake their heads and muse, How children transfuse, So much peace and joy in sleep.

But again a day will come, When wounded and bruised by those they held dear, Trembling and hurt will come near, To me.

And then again shall I soothe their fears, Gently shall I wipe their tears. And with my music transport them, To the Land of Sleep.

My job is done, And together we rise, To the heavens, till tomorrow brings a reprise. Again I stand at the helm and watch, The glorious break of dawn, And feel the warmth of a job well done!

Above us the birds gather, To sing a cheerful dirge. And the soft whispers of the wind, Convey its gentle approbation. For I am the Captain and this my Ship of Dreams.

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