My Day Is Done Poem by Prabir Gayen

My Day is Done
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Day after day with hope new,
One after another I am led,
Life pushes me to move forward,
Day, month and year life moves,
Years after years with same pattern,
The new goal to reach new title,
The Poor run after riches, the sick to health,
Like moving Sun and the Moon,
People are movingfrom one step to another,
And endless is the pursuit having no stoppage,
I am fed up with the play of life, Monotonous is the game, with so much to do and no end,
Life is an endless repetition,
Ups and downs, joys and sorrows,
Blissful moment of silence and gratitude and repentance,
An endless cycle of useless and useful emotions andprofound intelligence, regression and resolution.
The thread of life is round with many spokes, points to ponder over, and then to move on,
The nadir of sorrow and height of joy.
Anger and solemnity of Heart,
Thankfulness and separation,
Agreement and disagreement -
All go smoothly with same fate,
The cycle of the wheel of life in circular motion,
Joy is the moment of sorrow resting and sorrow is joy awaiting.
Nothing is above everything,
And everything is nothing,
Sitting in the great hill with mind full of joy and growing in dejection having no hope altogether,
Blissful trance and restless pain
Death and dissolution.
Who knows what is beyond death?
May be the same cycle to be repeating, rest and resolution.
Sometimes the glowing sun and the full moon,
Often the cloudy day and no-moon,
The sky though endless, love knowledge though eternal useless they seem,
What is the use of life, success or failure?
Glorious or vainglorious, dreamy and delightful, taste of truimph or humiliation of defeat.
Life, death or beyond the sheath of both the same game of throne.
The throe is always there, sometimes for myself and sometimes for others, What is the difference?
The heaven with prolonged stillness becomes Hell with time and hell accustomed becomes heaven,
Tears of gratitude and joy with tears of sorrow and pain or repentance bear same fruit,
The living with art of being alive in moment or grudging for what has happened weigh the same breath,
On the warmth of embrace in the arms of beloved like the joy of death and with sweet rapport or living in separatedness like a desolate island having no human company -all the way the same phenomenon,
The happiness and regret, Condolence or indifference,
Confluence or divergence - the game of same life like The Sun rises and sets but the One.
Life inthe gorgeous edifice fortified by mighty opulence or in the impecunious Shebang clustered by The Sun, the Moon and the stars,
The end has no difference apparent, though every moment is full of death and similar the pain,
The living and dying each moment is painful and poignant.
Only the cessation do I want,
The ultimate state of nothingness where no stir of life blissful or joyous and death with enlightenment doth play no role.
My play in the field of life is done and I need repose of dissolving into naught,
Beyond the sky and death and deathless Virtue should not favour to return, to revive into innocence,
Without the without I need to go where there is no sense of I or i- Ness.
From absolute is- Ness to absolute am-ness where there is no ism.
Such-ness, Is-Ness and am-ness,
No existence at the root having no root.
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