When The Imagined Threads of Time


When a bitter loneliness
overwhelms my weary nerves
and the imagined threads of time
are gone, being rendered meaningless,
I gaze up at the empty sky
and long to wander thoughtless like a cloud.

When a sour day keeps dragging on
like a snail through the desert sand
and the imagined threads of time,
robbed of their purposes, are gone,
I long to be a mountain stream
flowing down unhindered towards the sea.

When a stale and stagnant night lasts
longer than the eternity
and the imagined threads of time,
from lack of use, succumb to rusts,
I long to be the morning dew
in silence waiting for the rising sun.

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2 thoughts on “When The Imagined Threads of Time

    1. honestly, mere words of gratitude for such a praise would be too insignificant. though had you read my earlier poems, you would not have called it a gift. i had the fortune to befriend two poets through online social networking. now i see that their words and suggestions have been immensely helpful for me…

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