As this May fades, I still see traces of my previous dreams
Upon this bed, I listen loud for questions writing wills
Have I been sour, upsetting all that tread upon my path?
Have I been kind, a sparkling light that brightens every heart?
Is this how youth goes away
When there’s still so much to say?
Is this how night turns to day
With too little time to pray?
Does my mind only conjure
All the best thoughts I can draw?
Does my spirit stay ashamed
Of the purpose yet achieved?
As May fades away, I see traces of hope
As I tick this day as gone, I still await a show
Maybe May was a stage sent to test my living skills
May May leave me good traces of these daring drills.
As this day fades like dust long sprayed
As the moments of the twenty four hours complete their course
As the moon overlays the skies
And the stars appear in their graceful apparels
I think to myself of the minutes saved
The moments lost, the times poorly used
Perhaps brooding over misfortunes gone
Or wishing for future fortunes.
Many like me archived today
Storing it in a briefcase without codes
Hoping that we may repair yesterday
In our ideal sketch of the morrows to come
We keep tiny bits of our breakfast till nightfall
Often too panicked that our bowels will scream
And cry pitiably for want of satisfaction
Or dearth of seas in our intestines.
What if we became buffs of the present
Living a day at a time, one step in the line
What if we turn off yester woes and future fears
To live in the present and just dance in today.
Your body has set its own alarm
No longer in need of the clock on the wall
Your mind has drafted its own courses
Sharply discarding your to-do list
Withered seconds scream your name silently
Too selfish to let themselves go by untouched
Your feet hurry like the wind, not pausing one moment
To smile at the leaves and trees
Or enjoy the sensual healing of seas.
Can you take a day away
To rest at ease and save your face
Can you kindly forget your name
And your friends all around earth’s space
Can you perform like a mannequin
Without thought of timing anything
Can you take it slow like the snail
Since life loves the liver of it.