Rotation Poem by BASAB CHAUDHURI

Moment,
then another—
and then thoughts,
like raindrops falling one by one,
visible,
countable.

Will there be more rain today?
More rise and fall of thought—
like empires ascending and collapsing,
like old statues yielding to the new?
Heroes fade into oblivion.
New heroes take their place.

Space.
Then vacuum.
All space becomes vacuum.
All vacuum becomes possession.
So turns the wheel—
all space,
all the moment.

Will there be more rain today?