Beginning it is, not new


The day is done,
sun ain’t momently lost
to the mirky clouds,
it has set.

At tomorrow’s daybreak,
whilst shall rise just as before
sun’s mien shall connote
not just another day,
rather a whimsical foray,
for nous wanders,
to the year that was,
calling past to better rescue
future that flavors lost.

Crowd at square,
brave-hearts at club,
have commenced countdown,
to services of unseen time,
gracing, acknowledging arrival,
trusting futurity, and in it, self,
clung to smattering resolutions,
caressing celebratory today,
like tomorrow’s sunshine
would remedy drabness
of cluttered corners,
just like that!

but wager I will
on this creature of jubilation,
better their act,
unlike darn solitary brains
confined to past,
pains they sob over,
unable to shed off.

beginning it is, not new,
all called for is another view.

It was meant to BE!


Things happen
and we call them
“events of life”,
some capable of
turning life’s course.

A man’s prevision,
mere predictions
we call them, can
go wrong or equally right.

Future is not set
in stones, we say,
but do we believe,
fighting our way
off the prophecy,
spend entire eternity
working against it,
to change for better.
And whatever be the
result, favorable or not,
we emphasize
“it was meant to be,
there’s no escaping”,
and all
alternative possibilities
are termed delusions,
acceptance sweeps the
never questioning,
nor inquiring explanations,
mere “coincidence”
which it is,
is never understood!

Sailing to Future

Do not know the future,
have befriended the past,
the present seems a daunting task,
but, I shall cruise through, ahead of dark, since
sunshine is calling, from far, very far.

Need to work hard,
flex up some muscles,
pick up my sword, flare the rage as I move on,
direct my strength, alert, always open-eyed, since
sunshine is calling, from far, very far.

The last evident land has somehow ceased,
to sail in the sea is all I need,
proactive, controlling amidst the highs and lows,
fighting out the waves rendering me to solace of shores, since
sunshine is calling, from far, very far.

The terminus is a distant land,
and the wide sea to me presses hard,
but to surrender not my latest vogue,
may be I am nobody, but hope revives in me at last, since
sunshine is calling, from far, very far.