Walking Dream

‘Right next to routine, there is non-routine’ The time, not distinguishable whether it was day or night. Not being there, but the remembered path had been walked by me hundreds of times. The day, When I met the personage whom I had respected for long. He became a tree, erecting with two eyes closed. I wandered about because drunk by the streets emitting hazy light like over-exposed film. The space, not distinguishable whether it was real or not. Seen but not being there, the things had been watched by me thousands of times. The spot, where I waited for the personage last night. Picking a cluster of flowers not known whether it was real or not. I could not but return to the day.