The keeper of the day has sounded the gong.
The night is on, the light is off;
it's time to curl up in quilt and and sleep.
It's just past the midnight, not ripe yet for the day.
Toss and turn and dive deep.
Millions of stars swirl around.
The cosmic time
in a slow rhyme.
Broken puzzles come floating in.
The night flows; does not stop.
The calendar time, more oppressive than God's.
The page of the calendar flutters and turns.
The sun is far away
but the calendar shows another day.
Sushama Karnik.
Courtesy Danielle Chany for the image.
What a marvelous poem with Time as the focal point! The evocation develops both following the softness of the repetitive, reassuring curve of cycles and the acceptance of Time as an inevitable linearity!
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