Poetry

Munindra Misra


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16 december 2011

On Time

Time - what does it mean to be, 
Never existing but changing unceasingly, 
With no movement, relaying on it steadily, 
Ageless - but ageing other perpetually. [1]

Time is measured but in its flow, 
Where does it come from, where it go, 
From the past which lapsed but be, 
Into the future which never one sees. [2]

We dream the past but never live in it, 
We hope for the future but never exist in it, 
We prepare for happiness which future be, 
That future which never comes to be. [3]

It never decays but be the decayer, 
It never is devoured, but be the devourer, 
It never is ravaged, but be the ravager, 
It never is wasted but be the waster. [4]

It values none - but be alls valuer, 
It bows to none - but be alls bower, 
It never be taught - but be alls teacher, 
It never ends - but be alls ender. [5]

Of all the times - Time be the recorder, 
Of all the things - Time be the robber, 
Of all the sorrows - Time be the healer, 
Of all the powers - Time be the taker. [6]

In the eternal flow of time, 
As the enemy it out-shines, 
But for two things sublime, 
`Love’ and `change’ - devine. [7]

Time - the only constant surly be, 
With Love and Change its company, 
Love - the eternal time truth really be, 
Change - everlasting deceiver surely. [8] 
© Munindra Misra






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