A dream kept alive,
somewhere trembling,
in the palms of consciousness,
summons each breath
from some unknown providence.
And gifts it to me,
in an unending hope
of its own fulfilment.
I know not what it is
and neither the one who dreams it...through me.
May be the God who created me.
People call this dream, life.
Sarvesh Kulkarni
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dream-160/
