My Pressed Dreams!

Some lives... "Are like Pressed-Flowers!" Fragrance has left... Beauty has gone... And Life...Pressed it...so hard Between its Pages; "Crushing all dreams one carried for long..." O! Can Dried Flowers... "Again be dipped in colours of life?" As I've heard you...often say... "I'm There...I'm There My Child!" . How Beautiful... Are these two words "I'm There!" Even though it may connote "Anywhere!" . To the One, who asks nothing, but Surrender! And Yet! Ask All Of Ones Soul, O! Beloved Of Beloved's...who heard the unsung song of this little-girl...Are you There...Or..."Are You There?" . Was going through my journals of last 17 years or should I say, way ahead, when I was barely in my teens and had written a poem that I wish to make a difference in this world, by giving, giving through art & writings. And so many dreams & projects that I wished to do & give are like this pressed flower, written somewhere in my journal & somewhere on my soul-diaries, which aim unable to breathe life due to this chronic pain and not enough funding. My Guru often says..."Universe bends to Purity of ones thought!" And yet all I wished was to give away this love, before I'd wilt & be long gone. To all my pressed dreams! . Copyright: Meghna/2017