The Death-Wind Of Change Poem by Aniruddha Pathak

Death! Thou alone maketh man man of now,
And as life’s rooted in a renewed lease,
No end of life— a brief interlude art thou,
Dost thou not bestow balmy life new breeze?
O tail-wind of change, O punishing rod:
Blowing up stars, turning them angry red,
Pounding up peaks, protecting like pod,
Making kings commoners, winners wilted.

Fine ‘tis pen-painting life in present tense,
And doubtful putting thee in perfect past;
Let me call thee future-in-past now hence,
Thou bloweth op past-tinged infinite vast.
And more do mortals die the more they live,
More they live closer come, death to receive.
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- Sonnets | 01.09.12 |