Compare yourself
at finish of day
with that when
you rose at dawn-
in what way
has your resolve changed
or are you disappointed
with what you did
during those demanding hours?
Were you let down
or did you fail to give your best?
Are you regretting now?

Of myself I can speak
too high goals I don't set
my limited talent I acknowledge
competing is not within my league
only quietly I do my level best

when the sun sinks
in the evening
I don't despair or regret:
my duty I've discharged
I'm satisfied, content and glad
towards the next morn
I'll set the same modest target.

Excuse my silence
it shows neither contempt
nor indifference
let others finish
their every sentence

for my thoughts
are far from forthcoming
I'm still the mist and haze
dewy, not yet crystallizing  
into the form desired

until then
I'll be silent

while others argue
and dispute
without sense
or end

Life-  the hangover
the fret, the angst, the fever

the whatever, the wherever
whosoever,  the sufferer-

do we have any say
about what we choose or prefer?

yesterday, today
the glory or the decay
the ascent, the fall-over-

to sleep, to dream, to rest
after the grind and endeavour
is there the best
after the worst walk-over?

you and I---whosoever
each a lonely watcher and survivor
just a tiny cog in the mindless wheel of tomorrow

The young have left home
lured by the city's clamour
village of elders

Every age
   wants to create
   its own story
   to be different
   from and challenge
   the past that hovers-
   above its head

   it doesn't succeed:
  the present is the carry-forward
  of what went before
  it's a hybrid identity
  and commands no exclusivity -

  sages of the age
  carry within them
  the wisdom
of the ancients'
  from their fountain
  they eagerly drink
  and recognize
  the unbroken link

The obvious
        isn't exciting
        people choose
        the nebulous-

       facts are boring
       rumours they prefer
        of truth they
        really don't care-

        the thing is there
        to see they don't bother
        it interests them not
        the scene they just pass over-

        the logic of reason
        they deliberately ignore
        so obstinate are they
        and know not their delusion

He who can't
tolerate others
has a psychological problem-
himself he hasn't accepted
he has yet to learn
to self-transform