Moments Melt Ere We Know Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

We often wake up heart in hand
From the dross of a messy dream,
Like a crab from the moist morning sand,
Grasping a sinking, gossamer dream, grim,
For most dreams by nature sad are,
As is all life more or less— more-oft more,
Being guided from a distant star,
The moon as directs waters on sea shore.

So did wake up I from this one,
Which, I wished upside down to turn,
Or better still, some night to return;
But we know, dreams are scarce life-like,
And unlike mundane life may not return,
Nor with bodies dead do they burn,
O to prick all next life like a sharp spike.

Man, alas, ne'er does long enough live
To know what today's truly like,
The morrow scarce can a clear vision give,
And moments melt ere we friendship strike.
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- Musings | 02.09.11 |