Before it is too late

Sailing down the river of passion

At breakneck speed,

If we had time

To catch our breath,

Thousands of ways

I could have told you

How much I loved you.

Now as life is winding down,

And before the call comes,

I will just take a moment, and

Without much ado,

Simply say,

I love you.

I love you.

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Heart of Stone

For a moment of your time

I gave away my whole life

Today you ask me for a moment

Alas, time has taken its toll

Left me a pauper

With a heart of stone

Temporal Absurdity

When there will be time,
It will not matter anymore.
False self importance,
Scarred life bears
Pains of lonliness
Amongst abundance.
In solitude
I close doors to the world,
Open my mind to the universe,
Fly in vacuum of black holes unseen.
Temporal absurdity rules.

We Travelled Time

I am visiting my home town, Guwahati, in India for Durga Puja. The nine day celebration (Navaratri) of worshipping Goddess Durga ends on the tenth day with the immersion of her idol on Vijaya Dashami (October 19th this year. Last I was in Guwahati for Durga Puja was in 1984.

On my way to Guwahati, I stayed in Kolkata for two days meeting my college class mates whom I had not seen for more than four decades. The poem below is an expression of how I felt meeting my friends, with whom I had spent five years of my life, after such a long time.

We Travelled Time

For a moment time stood still,
And then we rolled it back.
As decades collapsed to years,
And years squeezed to
Months and days,
For a few hours there
We found our fountain of youth.
Years fell of like
Leaves falling off a tree in fall.
Behold the miracle!
As Yayati sheding his old age
Embracing youth,
In the dying rays of an autumn sun
We took a dip in the fountain
And emerged as teens.
Bewildered eyes of our sweethearts
Questioning what madness engulfed us,
We travelled time.
Drank from our cup of memories.
Rejuvenated,
We parted, not with a heavy heart
But promises to meet again.
©Pranab Sarma, 2018

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Yayati – mythological king who was cursed with old age at the prime of his youth. He regained his youth as his son Puru agreed to take his father’s curse and gave his youth to his father.

One-Liner Wednesday – Excuses

This post is in response to Linda’s  #1OneLinerWednesday.

Excuses are free to give but cost the giver dearly as time goes by.

Climate Change and Fire : RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge # 213 Time & Movement

This post is in response to Ronovan’s Weekly Haiku Challenge .

 (Photo by Terray Sylvester/Getty Images)-NBC Multimedia

Climate is changing
Strong grass root movement required
Time is running short

Raging fires scorches
Time for evacuation
Movement restricted

Joy of Finding Lost One

Oh the joy of finding the long lost
Seperated by distance and time, and
The complexities of a journey called life
We drifted apart from the common bond