It's simply because
you appeared for a while
in my morning dream,
that I dedicated this entire day to you.
That's precisely why,
I'm sure,
the newspaper would carry no news,
except your face
that would peep through
the column-compacted pages
of the daily.

All the calls that I receive
on my phone
would be from you only.
All the letters
that the postman delivers
would have come but from you.
And from all the taxis
that would halt near my house,
you alone would get down;
and all the knocks on my doors
would be yours alone.

If today,
this world gets lost and destroyed,
and all of a sudden,
the race of homo sapiens
goes extinct,
and if only a fraction
of man's dreams remains,
I'm sure,
you'll come to me even then
assuming the wholeness of the relics
of that dream.