You woke up this morning But lethargy lingered in your eyes, with wisp of nightmares Still you carried on with the day And nights Looking at the droopy creepers and high-pitched angry pigeons You wondered how a cup of coffee overlooking Seine will taste like How will be the air around Florence? And then you dissolved in the dust of your reality Which, my dear is always painful I feel your longings, your quest Of adventure Of farfetched lands, of glowing hearts Of pouring words and wines I want to get there too As fast as I can Maybe we can create it here, in our room In the hidden corner of our house Maybe we need to travel far, far away from our lands Our people, our delights, our loves Only to be loved again Somewhere else But trust me Empty your pockets, loosen your hair Put your roots in a black box To treasure and cherish the essential And then stack all your dreams Like you would do with the eggs in your refrigerator Because My love, Every omelette is delicious Just cook it by yourself Taking control of every move And if you feel it’s a little insipid As Julia told me Add a spoonful of butter.
Note from the poet:
The poem is dedicated to my little sister who is fighting (and braving) clinical depression since the past two years. She loves it when I write for her and these poems uplift her mood, at least for a while. Omelette was one such attempt to not let her sink in another dark phase, because it's difficult coming back.