The Texture Of Time

A path of sand leads the way –
For devotees up to the temple,
Path embraces footprints,
In return pacifies their feet.

The shore that hides shellfish,
Locks in its chest many a memories,
Of bright evenings with kin,
Even after they go under tombs.

Babies wriggle on the mud,
Children build castles on the beach,
As men, they build brick-houses, and –
A handful of sand is sprinkled on their corpses.

Dust covers the great statues,
Pages of books mix with dirt,
Trace of human slowly gets buried,
Under a texture that smoothes even a rock.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s