Cyclic Rhythms Poem by indira babbellapati

decades diluted;
as if it was
the very morning we had met
and seen each other again
in the late afternoon

there was no rush of blood;
blood in the veins flowed
like a serene sacred river
in which dissolved the decades

how can one ever explain
the mystic bond that connects
one to people and situations?

nothing ever goes
everything in the affairs of
the world and beyond
simply moves in cycles...