Golden Moments Poem by RAJ VIKRAM

When moments that prompt me,
to mark life as a priceless
treasure worth holding on to,
are stolen away by merchants
of hate with designs devious.

I become a stealer of sorts,
a stealer of moments oneself,
and a midas touch takes
genesis in the fingers that
turn dull moments golden.

Thus the moments that are
golden in spirit and feel are born,
The stolen moments may have
turned golden by a sleight of hand
but I couldn't care less.

Though impermanence of these
moments ache the being as
sustenance of these moments
is beyond my capacity dear one,
but spare not I will in my efforts.

These golden moments move
the being from the stagnant
pool of despondence.
Golden moments that gladden
our being are ours alone.

Let us just be glad and don't
be gluttonous in expending
these moments with gay abandon
Let us savour slowly and
unknowingly become golden forever.