My dreams

                  My dreams

My dreams are like the leaves of an autumn tree.
When shall the tree drop them, no one knows
A wind, no, even a small breeze,
Can bring them down


My dreams are like the petals, of a withered rose
When shall they fall off, no one knows!
A touch, a mere sigh of a wounded heart
Can make them fall off.

My dreams are like the water drops
Edging out over a leaf after a rain.
When shall they fall off, no one knows
Dipping out, like the tears from my eyes.

Yet like the tender leaves of early spring
Like the new buds which soon bloom
Like the next drop which never fails to appear,
They are always reborn
Or there’d be no life nor would I be here.

Hope, it’s that tread, the last stand for all!
The night sky promises the day its sun.
The winter promises the flowers its spring.
The drought promises earth its rain.

It’s this hope, this trust
Which keeps life going,
During all those times
Of sorrows grief and pain.

When there is a hill, there ought to be a valley.
When there is a fall, there ought to be a rise.
Yes, dreams may not always come true.
But life without them will never be true!

Poem by: K. Mary Elizabeth, St.Teresa's College

Photo by: Rohit,