New Dreams taking shape
on the grounds of sand,
mud would be strong walls
with the swish of a wand.....
So much of thought goes in,
so many hopes entangle the mind,
somewhere theres fear too...
yet, the will to own my ground!
Tomorrow may rain or shine,
Roar thunder or lightning strike...
Today, now, am busy moulding a shelter
for me and mine....
With a song in my heart
I beckon the promises
the thought of home brings along
engulfed in togetherness....
Mud would be raised
from dust to a home...
would it be my haven
when I am in dust form?
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