Childlike Fantasy

Sometimes a childlike fantasy crosses my mind,
How would it be like... to send to you,
By merely hurling into thin air and blue,
All those things and thoughts I wanted to...

From early dawn,with eager enthusiasm,
I hurl many things, unto you, miles away,
Holding each and uttering your name,
And just flinging them away, all the day...

Those stacks of verses, some done and some unfinished,
Those trivial elements of beauty I often come across,
Few photographs and images which haven’t yet vanished,
From our ever-thirsting lives, stealing their gloss...

I send even pin-ups from my room and few words empty,
Each drifting slowly towards you, all the while,
Riding and abiding by these new rules of gravity,
And in the end, making you smile...

When the day is done to dusk, with no sound,
I hurl some songs to electrify the air around.

But when loneliness pins up in bright,
On the silent dark veil of the night,
Ploughing the thoughts I hide,
making my path narrow and wide,
Tell me, what shall I fling, to reach your own self?
Perhaps, those thoughts, a blank paper and myself.
That is when, in you, it is my own self I often find,
Sometimes this childlike fantasy crosses my mind...