Mornings come and mornings go.
Ceaseless winds timeless blow.
As kismet rolls its enduring gall.
Another domino tumbles falls.
In the merge of days and nights.
Or the urge of dizzying heights.
Awed we gape unfolding paths,
barren scapes, yon greener swaths.
In Hedonic shadows collecting debts.
Karma silent prances, weaving nets.
Along rut and creek of passing days,
jilted songs and jarring forays.
Oblivious we sail on endless fret.
Lonely to hush of the last sunset.
original.
11 Jan.12.
Islamabad.
Great poem, as I read I felt suspended somewhere above all the comings and going of Earthly things.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sunset comes sunset go, after morning go it comes, after sunset go morning comes..in between just a mid, midnight or noon...lonely o lonely it's not you feel lonely but heart felt to be something to attach only :) ..Like a coconut tree, it stand solely without branches, maybe it lonely without branches but hey around it a lot of coconut trees, why dont you be in one orchard...(But not mean you in Hawaii) hahahaha_Unwritten Soul