Saturday, February 16, 2008

My journey

I have been lost in age and so I must have a beginning. But where is the point to begin with? There is only whirl of events with gust of senses about me.

Sometimes I am pinched between ghosts of the present and a non-existing blank future. The poignancy of the pain is the only touch of reality. There is no sense of a trace behind and no waiting space ahead in a future.

I have been in time where footprints are not laid in a visible path. It is only dust of moments. I am scattered in innumerable pieces from stars to worms where the infinity is lost. I was not born nor could I die in my plenty's procession and everything is here but nothing makes a presence.

I am constantly praying to that someone at the steer for a stop or for a taking off to a high unknown, which no imagination can conceive of, leaving below all the falsely luring horizons.

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