Is It Time? Poem by Santosh Bakaya

Today morning
as the birds chirped up a storm, trying to wake up
a comatose sun, I heard some rustling.
"Get up, it is time." There was a sibilant hiss.
Time! For what! Oh, I was in a knot!

Has my journey to oblivion begun?
But, the sun up there still shines as bright,
my favorite birds chirp as sweet
the melody of those relationships, so soft,
still soothe, and yes, this tooth,
which needs root canalling, pains as much.

Hey, what did I just hear?
Is it really true that the downward journey
has been stalled, for the time being?
This medication will help, you say
for one more day, may be?
Am I hallucinating?
Or is it really time?
Time for what, exactly?
I can feel the tug of the puppeteer,
oh, come on, it is not a tear that I am wiping.
It is just that this typing on the cell phone
can be a strain to the eyes.
Stop it?
No never!
This cellphone is also a part
of the myriad symphonic phonetics
of this unending lust for life.
Not so soon - you are a fighter, you say?
Forever a champion?
Life is a constant challenge, you know,
so accept this challenge, just once more.
One more fight -yes one more
till the night falls,
scintillating and bright.
And the birds fall silent.
Eternally.