Belated Dreams

[Dreams and aspirations would sure take their own time to come around. When I am not over with my fulfillment over my own lifetime, what do I do with the bits and remnants? I would be silly to not gather courage and enough trust to pass it on to another person who aspires the same!]

Far from habitation’s latent shield
Across a dry after-harvest paddy field

Few dying miles left, the old steps hurried
Empty grains and husks the cracked earth buried

The old man had a young boy for a rendezvous
Reminding him of a spirit he had bid adieu

Stood he against a future improvised
Enthusiasm and hard work, resources marginalized

Soiled books on his rug, a technique naive
Young knowledgeable eyes against the twilight alive

The old hands fondled him, cumulating hope
Livelihood and learning is a tightly ended rope

He stated a purpose, those young eyes now even brighter
He must overcome or achieve or such either

A tinge lit to burn living and all its realms
In him, those eyes had realised its belated dreams.