A Stolen Slice of Time

My Post

 

It’s not the past that I seek,
But a version of it.
A thinly cut slice of happiness,
From an overall muddled reality.

A wary awareness greets me as I write,
For no joys of today,
Are fastened to the restraining threads,
Of a time gone by,
Nor chained to dreams of a vivid tomorrow,
But alive in the fragile moment,
Full of possibilities,
And of creation,
Often more than a slice.

 

Vaibhav

Distant

Distant is the taste of the breeze,

The rustle of tranquil trees.

Bring me back some laughter please,

And wind the clocks to times of ease.

Arrested in our homes, and lost are the keys,

A plagued world, brought to its knees.

Smeared by uncertainty are days like these,

Panic in the streets with a single sneeze.

I wish to be someone who sees,

The thaw beyond this moment of freeze,

Until then, today is the only thing to seize,

A life worth living, fiery without a cease.

Vaibhav