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Monday, November 17, 2014

Space and Time

World-weary I am,
treading along a path
winding, diverging,
with litter of the past.

Then comes an old man,
a face lined and spotted,
wise and weathered,
a good old man.

“Do I make my destiny,
or shall destiny make me?”
The old man coughs,
I wait for his answer.

“Destiny's in your hands,”
the old man tells me.
I've read that before,
but I want to know more.

“Space and time,
how much is mine?”
His lines soften,
jowls loosen.

His mouth opens,
a soundless laughter,
I see him, I watch him,
his soundless laughter.

“Scientists, astronomers,
geniuses, soothsayers,
astrologers, predictors
have tried to find answers.

“Their complex equations,
satellites and rockets,
launching and exploring,
the many universes.

“But young friend, I tell you,
Your space is where
you find your feet;
your time, the moment you do.”

- Eisha


Shruti said...


Azin said...

Well said!!!

Radiya said... are truly a poet

Rajeshwari said...

Wooooow! You are too good...

Devashree said...

mind blown..... one of the finest i have read so far... amazing mam

Nifty said...

Very nice....