The impossible seems possible sometime. And I feel it’s better to dream the abstract and the irrational rather than let common sense dictate life.  

Flying is impossible.
Soaring through the sky on your own?
Isn’t possible.
That when a star goes supernova
It bursts into a black hole.
And though it slows down time,
If you fell into it,
You’d be stretched and ripped into pieces.
It isn’t possible.

But I looked on,
Up to where my arms couldn’t reach.
No matter how hard I stretched,
Or how high I jumped.
No telescope,
Of glass or gold
Did justice to fractured moonlight,
Indented craters,
And fiery shooting stars.

I wove,
The stars and the moons together
In a fabric of dreams.
And though everything,
Was supposed to be black, silver and gold,
I simply picked up colors
And redrew the tapestry of sky, space
And black holes
In a rainbow.

Featured Artwork – Nainika Shriram