Can I still dream, Mom?
I was asking as a child,
it was a mild day of spring,
I still remember that thing
coming all the way from the sky,
towering the cities,
it was high, and I might
have looked out of sight,
with my red winter shoes,
as it was still cold,
I was not entirely sold
on the idea of being
some extra-terrestrial overlord.

But then my inner eye
was open once more,
and I remembered who I was.
A god.

The rest of the story,
with all its glory,
you can read it
in some old Indian book,
Ramayana, take a look.

And then I wake up.
It was morning, 2023.

You see?