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Monday, March 13, 2006


"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to rend, and a time to sew;a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace." - Ecclesiastes

I wish to talk to "time" today,
There is a lot I have to ask and say,
Time was "there" when I laughed and played,
Time was "somewhere" when blunders I made,
Time was musing..when I was lost in thought,
Time was ignorant..when with myself I fought.
Time has the colours,it owns the music,
In it.. coexist the ordinary and the artistic.
Time can paint..beautiful days,
Time can wash away my footprints..even on those well-known ways.
Time can be my best company..make me feel so nice..
Time can hurt by not caring..not even looking back as it flies..
Time can weave can quietlty hold little dreams,
It can keep silly secrets..then suddenly leave me alone in reality where nothing is at it seems.
Time is the creator ..the one who ignites..
The dark sleeping corners of my thoughts..with a heavenly aura it lights..
Time knows my was "then" ...
Time stays with me even the making of "when"..

It melts my inner tumult and I forget my unanswered queries,
When I see its with an undisturbed equanimity darkness and light it sees.....
It makes me feel so full of follies..the "me" who will always complain..
My failure to accept and understand its moves...with its silent grace it chooses not to explain.

It is eternal..tirelessly it flows..
It showers unexpected happiness and renders sudden blows.
Time is the writer...of the pages that are to be my history..
Laughters unravels my unnoticed,insignificant mystery.
Time is beautiful moments that pass too fast,
Time is the agony and pain that will for a lifetime last.
Time is 'mine'..with me it stays,
It gives me a new reality to accept ..then my dreams it betrays.
Time is the healer,the one who protects,
first it hurts with a thoughtless ease...then it seemingly regrets.
It sometimes listens when I sing and I say,
It sways with the me hope when I pray.

In time I was..I am and I shall be,
Sometimes I want to follow it with closed eyes..sometimes..I yearn to choose and see..
Time is a manifestation...the interpretation that I am left to contemplate,
It is the witness that acknowledges my existence..with neither love nor hate.
With the anxious waiting eyes of a child...I can but only guess,
The days that time weaves for me...for it lies not in my power to blame or bless.
My insignificance becomes a greater realization,
When i understand there is no choice but resignation.
I err and then I listen to memories that make me sad and weak,
Ignoring the present...only the "was" and "will" I seek.
Time is my inner calm..time is turbulence,
time maybe reality...time maybe sheer pretense.

In the endless space,
In growth, the gradual wrinkles of a face.
In winter autumn and night,
In anticipation,apprehension...of what has been or what might.
In the now,then,when that I attempt to define here,
The unnoticed moment that passed away silently..someday..somewhere..

It can let thoughts flow freely...without bothering of consequence or importance,
It can just as easily control the unquestionable guise of circumstance.
Yet,there are some beliefs that time cannot create or make.
The faith in the existence of dreams and ideals,the desire for rainbows it cannot take...
I must rest my case all humility,
In appreciation and acceptance of this very second..and that unknown eternity.....
In blossoming crushed bliss sublime..
In everything around is somewhere hidden...the unchangeable writ of "Time".