Dreams are travelling

In paper boats,

Passing ports of time

Towards the horizons

Of dawn

Pregnant with sun ,

Waving flags

On the highways of oceans ;

Singing epics

Of human power

Which turns the silly earth

Into grain and fruit;

Spins civilizations

Out of mere smoke

They drive into mines

To return ,

As brigades of iron

Rush into woods

To emerge as rising axes ,

Set aside mountains

To make their way

It is not blood

That flows in their veins ;

It is the life breath

Of those

Who gave up themselves

For the children of tomorrow - 

Masses of them are moving

To join the great festival

Of building sky – high – column – of – spine

For the drooping country

They are marching to stand as muscles

And to become the swarthy hands

Of the nation;

As the children in the cradles

Whose hearts they rocked

On their pathetic graves to drop

As flowers of homage

They are journeying with the wing

Dreams are travelling in paper boats -

Seshendra Sharma

http://seshendrasharma.weebly.com