Ad Continuum Poem by Quaid - Uz- Zaman

Seasons change, and
so do we.
The same planet, the sun, and the moon—
the same.
Nothing is old or new. Only replacement,
one with the other.
Only updated.
It could be the last day,
with a few moments knitted together;
a password, if not forgotten,
-an account
Only updated, new or old,
to make every poem an art,
not a luxury.

To face what is deferred,
deflected.
And to behold what is fleeting,
or pass it freely and gracefully.
No one is asleep—only a little break over this awakeness,
with utterances never-ending.