Break the routine
And come out of the monotony
Of a broom and being
Come out to see the
Spider in the mind
Unwinding the void of nothingness
Fill it with filtering joy of filament
Break the sameness of a schedule
And relax with words on a page
Written or spoken in the days
When away from the din
One lazed with a book in the hand
Or on the sand on beaches
Of the mind spread the sea
Of being and becoming
It seems as the spread of nothingness
But it depends how you shed the
Schedule of a monotonous sail
Like the oars dropped in the water
But breaking the monotony of the placid sea
With the moving muscles of the hands
The sand gets warmth with the sun
The sand gets cooled with the unseen dews
The land and the sand and the sea
Are nothing without humans and non-humans
They are nothing, their cycle has empty slots
Their monotony, the slots will be filled by life
And longing and desire and dreams
Again they are nothing at the end of the day
But in the long run when
The sweat and the blood will dry and burn and spill
The routine will be the same
Break the monotony by stopping the bloodshed in Gaza
And fill the void with peace that comes out of
An extraordinary eccentric change in the routine
The bloody routine of bombs and buildings
Exploding and falling into debris of broken limbs
And lives, break the monotony and burn the
Strictness of an agenda and thaw the thirsty
Being with the warmth of that fire burning
To burn the monotony to ashes
Out of which the peace a phoenix
Will slowly take a shape to shape our
Warring worlds....leaving you
In laughter and tears…
Was I not nothing before my birth or wouldn't I be nothing after my end? ... I am but made out of nothing “ but a fractional moment of ecstasy which earlier was nothing” I know pretty well that there is nothing beyond death I die a thousand deaths during the day… I sign off the day in optimism-“Tomorrow I shall not die”… But I am not prepared to believe that all my thoughts and words are -“are out of nothingness” Samuel Beckett says – “Every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness.” And finally to end it all I am forced to quote the Pope John XXIII “The feelings of my smallness and my nothingness always kept me good company.”
