Antique. Poem by RAJ VIKRAM

I got an antique
while I was traversing
the long paths of life
I didn't know its value
as I hated to evaluate
anything in life.

My instinct told me
that it was an antique
because it had a
timeless beauty about it.
Though I doubted my
ability to gauge
beauty of any kind
I parroted Keats
'A thing of beauty
is a joy forever'


I felt rapturous as
the antique rested in
my uncouth and rugged hands,
my antics changed and
I seemed a born again man
to the sceptic world outside.
I didn't try to value
this hallowed antique
and hid it from all
but its beauty pervaded
my being unknowingly.


What is this antique?
Why did it make its way
into my hands of all?
Questions welled inside
Then it dawned upon me
this antique is a
golden moment stolen
from the shores of yore.

That golden moment
in the infinite past
gave me fleeting glimpse
of the intransient.
Then it was golden
and throbbing with life
Now it is an antique
But I know its value.