Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

Another lovely poem!

Read this amazing poem by maryamchahine :

Tell Me

Tell me is it true

that you believe

we are conceived

into a thoughtless world

and that the purpose of

life is to be found nowhere?

Are skies blue, gray and sometimes

burnt because they only are?

How can this be?

Who tells this great globe

how to balance its revolutions?

How much rain to pour forth?

When the clouds to part?

Do seasons come of their own accord?

Do mountains form of their own will?

Does no one tell a tree

how far to grow or when a

flower’s time has inevitably arrived?

By what grace is a bird

held when it takes flight?

How does the sky above halt

from falling upon our insignificance?

Should we just take for granted that

the sun greets us tirelessly everyday?

Do we have any control of the

darkening of the night and rising of the dawn?

Can we guide the waves in the sea or make the

snow less white?

Why is it that at the moment

of death you have no choice

in the most important event

in your life?

Tell me is it true

that you are in such control?

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