Poem: Halfway to the Sky

So, I closed a door behind me in a room on the 123rd Floor of the Burj Khalifa. I was not there as a tourist. I was there as…then I thought I should talk about this in a poem.

Poem: Halfway to the Sky

This ain’t an Icarus’ dream
A fifteen-second elevator ride up
In Chilled Air conditioners
The sunscreen will protect our wings
The 123rd floor is a reality
Halfway to the sky.

Not a minute to waste
For time is money —
And the time is about money
For those who have conquered the Burj
Looking for another peak
The debate is about dreams
Halfway to the sky.

I stood my ground, firm, two legs planted
A debate about dreams, as tall as the Burj.
A place of privilege, no tourists can visit
The home of the high-flyers —
Their perch is at the right height
Halfway to the sky.

Through the glass walls
The desert lay in submission
Other skyscrapers look like ladders
Cars resemble confused ants
Cranes without wings swing by
Another desert dream in the making
A bird’s eye view of Marhaba city
Halfway to the sky.

Will the sky ever cry?
Pricked by the pointed Burj –
Even if there were tears
They would pour Dirhams.
The world looks so different
Standing on somebody’s dream
Halfway to the sky.

I stare at the hazy horizon
There is no parallel here
It is time for a perpendicular
A handshake unlike others
The silent, small world shall watch
The doors close behind me
I am now a part of this —
Halfway to the sky.

~Ashok Subramanian © 2025