I had my blue slippers on to walk|
And went for an evening stroll
There it was the resplendent sunset
In the distant downhill
The orange peachy colors with streaking rays
Was it some Rayleigh or Mie scattering?
For the sun (or the earth), the work was done for the day
Yet, the man’s work is never over
Neither in a day nor in life
This strange vacant desolate feeling
This subdued almost mute heart
Earlier these floating swan-like clouds,
These cotton field puffed seeds
They would almost transport me to the imaginary
Kailas, some exotic divine land
Now, know not why –
Has the imagination lake dried up?
Is the heart tired of its constant ebb and flow?
Has hope become a distant mirage?
Is life a mere balance sheet?
The flickering blue stars seem happy, content
Seem to say: “ We do not remember the pain of violent birth
Nor are we afraid of the distant turbulent end
How can we be concerned with our past or future?
Barely we comprehend complexities of femtoseconds
Perhaps, we started in vacuum, dark matter, or blackhole
May journey to a white dwarf
Just busy living in the instant,
In the ever renewing life
In the company of loving astral bodies”