For time is running out

I still hear the call
Faint chants from far away
Sounds of cymbals imploring me to hasten,
for time is running out.

Faint voices of promises not kept
like a butterfly fluttering near my heart.
Voices that will not be silenced
even by my drunken numbness.

Somewhere, there's an innocent child
crying
"How could you let me down?
You should have looked after me.
So much time
has passed.
Why did you waste
so much time
serving the dead?
Why did you try so hard
to kill by neglect
the only thing
that was truly alive in you?

Now
it is grasping for breath.
Can you hear
its desperation?

Among the ruins of regret,
ruins that are sad and yet
so peaceful,
among the ruins of shattered dreams
can you hear a song faintly flowing?
Almost drowned out
by ghosts howling haunting melodies,
can you hear a song that is calling you
to search where it is coming from?

Move through the ruins.
Forsake the wailing ghosts
that you can never appease
and follow the song.
For time is running out.

For time
is
running out."

Comments

Unknown said…
Ash, you are a wonderful poet. This is so beautiful.
Unknown said…
This is beautiful, Ashvin. And it makes me THAT much more proud to have you for a colleague—in work and in mindfulness.
Happily,
Klaus

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