Time passes by
Like moving in a train of thoughts
Its sequence is always forward
Vibrating like a cosmic dance of Shiva
Time is creating and engulfing
The little waves of the ocean
Going where?
Nobody knows
Like a dream does not have a destination
It is as true as any absurd play
With friends of pleasure
It moves like speed of light
With friends of need
It is felt like a moving river
Allowing a little moments of thoughts
Before everything becomes a history
With friends of virtue
Time becomes a sublime touch
Soothing and healing the pain
Becoming a spectator
To watch the cries and follies
Beauty and ugliness
The rainbow of joy
And an album of suffering
Time touches
Yet it remains aloof
Like Purush is witnessing
The colours of prakriti
Yet remains unblemished
And untouched
The union of two is always mystical
Their touch is a source
Of creation and transformation
Time is witnessing everything
In its sequential movements
Who is witnessing time?
What is independent of the origination and decay?
Who is beyond the binary of cause and effect?
It is love and only love!
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