Clock Of The Moment

Clock of the Moment By: Tejas Ranade

2007 As time commences its ascent like a shooting star, And shines, as such, a light over this dark world, You rise and wake to life, wholly carefree and careless To the moment stretched to breath from the moment curled, With no compassion for the light of time, bright only from afar.

It does not halt, but violently launches its hurl Through morning and more, in an incredible lightness. You wash and go out to play, mind without any mar And still do not see the light, see it only as actless And barely take notice as it subtly begins to unfurl.

Time has now traveled halfway across its crest As its light begins to dim, leaving a beam, a scar You work and work more, never noticing the pearl That shines on you with the reflecting of the bar Of light, and happiness, and passion, and zest.

Now the clock reaches twelve, slow as viscous tar Forgotten memories come flashing by in a whirl.

You take shallow gasps of air, erratic and compressed; Your life has been a series of burl after burl. Your hurriedness and exhaust, matching par by par.

Now you realize that you should have waited To hear the melodies the birds of time had sung. And enjoyed your treasure, savored every moment, And walked the path slowly, till the end bell had rung.

But midnight has arrived, twelve has struck, and all is done.