A convulsively distorted face gazed at him,
The two terrible eyes fixed straight upon his own.
With momentary wonder, he thought,
Is this a guardian or ghost?
He couldn't tell.
He tried to scream,
To find the voice within;
But there was only silence.
He is asleep today, but knows,
He will become awakened tomorrow.
And, this is but a dream...
In this dream, he began to dance...
that eternal dance between the mundane and the extraordinary.
How can one know the dancer from the dance?
Oh! They are so hopelessly intertwined.
-Srividya
Jan 14, 2014
PS: The last paragraph is a tribute to W B Yeats. I read his poem Among school children and couldn't get his last line out of my mind.