Snowflakes of Dreams by I.H. Rizvi is the title poem with which the poetry-collection begins with, and it shows how he comes to grapple with the poetic matter flirting with dream and colour, opening new avenues of thought and idea. Rizvi as an Indian writing in English writes keeping in view dream, reflection, colour, vision and temperament, and romantic poetry is the chief property of the poet and he tries to dabble in.

Where the sun cannot go, the poet can and similar is the case with the poet. His is a shayarana andaz, adda which we can mark it here while going through his poetry. Snowflakes of dreams, how do they fall through; the poet comes to mark it. Is it not a dreamy perspective of his poetry to view it in such a manner? His is a dreamer’s version and vision, a colourful dreamer’s penetration of dreams and its colourful realms of delving. To him, poetry is dreams, colourful dreams, romantic vistas of thoughts and ideas. The poet glances from heaven to earth and earth to heaven. To read him is to be reminded of Kubla Khan not, Coleridge’s red eyes, opium-eaten not, poetically red eyes. 

The heart is the centre of all, on which the things keep happening. Where the story ends there from begins it too. From the eyes the things come down to the heart and the memory.  Snowflakes glide through the eyes like scenes and scenarios dancing before catching imagination. These pass away like winking domes of glass. It is in reality not the snowflakes, but the dreams and their colours scattering before the poetical eyes glancing through. Snowflakes of dreams are like shooting stars; they arise and fall into the ocean of nothingness. But they die it not. They are born again. Dreams cannot die and it is dreams by which live we. But colourful dreams just remain concerned with the scenic, dreamy surface of things. The snowflakes of dreams pass on the mind’s eyes like the curls of smoke, rolls of rainbow clouds, shower of blooms, leaving an impression of their own.

But the meaning of the poem is deeper indeed. What we see is a colourful representation. Reality is far from, and we want to live in dreams as all of us like to live and re-live and so are the flakes of dreams giving away finally.

Snowflakes of dreams
glide through the land of eyes
like pantomimes of airy bubbles,
like colourful wings of smoke,
like rolls of rainbow clouds,
like shower of blooms in sleep,
like winking domes of glass,
like fairy flights in paradise,
like fancy’s sights of godly courts,
like drowsy calm of the South Pole,
like downy charm of Eden’s air.
They sail in the heaven of thought
and haunt all eyes in all states.
As endless is their vast empire
as kingdom of the space.
They represent all forms of life
in all its shades and hues;
they make no noise and ask no price.
The snowflakes fall on sheets of heart
and rest and leave their mark,
but most of them fall down
into the sea of nothingness.
They are reborn and fly away
to  limitless skies of thought
to sail and roam and haunt
the land of eyes again.