Sunday, January 13, 2013

As the time flies..

A bird swift with a hawk's velocity
whizzes it through the invisible skies
Lingers the whiff of past, as behind
Fragrance of nostalgia lies

Sheds it a feather on some flights
And born is a moment florid
Capture I wish to, the colorful plume
But dances it away with the wind

Builds it a nest in a distant land
Where slow moos of the cows are heard
And in the slow rustles of the trees
Comes the lost wind for nomad's rest

Some Sundays comes the bird to my porch
And slow down the clocks their breathing
But come when the Mondays, Tuesdays and so on..
Takes it off to distant land for the nest far away

And I watch the time fly by..

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