It is not possible to return,
For a river to
To the point of ascension,
For dawning sun
To return in the morning again,
For a giant tree
To become a plant again,
In the cycle of time
Though to say
River water becomes cloud again
Falls in the form of rain
At the point of its origin,
The sun in the next day
Becomes a morning sun again,
And a tree germinates in its seed
To blossem as a tiny plant,
But the stream of water flowing again from the source
Is a new stream,
New sunrise in the next morning,
Is a new day,
And the tiny plant sprouted from the seed is
New plant is only,
Even in this impossible cycle of time,
It takes us back and behind
In an afternoon of childhood,
As a youth waiting on the road anxiously,
In the eyes of a lover who just fell in love,
In any old moment that fills with an excitement or depression,
Anywhere, in any city and in any age,
Destroy all the fortresses of time
Neautralizes the time cycle and its wrinkles
The mind and its fourth dimension of mind.....

© Hardeep Sabharwal