I was deep in sleep,
When someone whispered, “Come, don’t weep,”
A kiss on my head, soft and light.
A magical touch,
The door opens wide, as such,
I climb the stairs, chasing the night.
Across the fields, one by one,
Laughter spreads under the moon and sun,
A market of games, children at play.
I understand that I dream,
Pinching myself, or so it seems,
A field of dust, red and bright.
Someone’s marbles in their hand,
Swinging from trees, isn't it grand?
Playing with pots, no plan.
Boys like me, carefree and wild,
Forgetting the lessons, just a child,
Running all day, forgetting the strain.
He says to me, “What’s wrong, boy?
Standing still, don’t you enjoy?
Come play in this moonlit joy.”
I’m calm now, the mood is gone,
The stubbornness of the past withdrawn,
From dawn to night, a field so green.
No rush now, no school to bear,
Even after lessons, the fresh air,
Touching flowers, butterflies in the air.
Suddenly, there’s a noise so clear,
The sunlight comes, drawing near,
The silver field, far from here.