Circle of Life

As one grows older, one realizes,
That the song had been playing all along,
Notes floated in the air, rising and falling,
Stitches breaking, mending and breaking again,
The old litter in the gutter was with new litter,
The winter quilt and the cherry blossom turned to summer heat,
Noise was always following silence and darkness, light,
It was the way of the world,
To stand and watch it from a distance was not easy,
The entanglements were many,
Perhaps, the Buddha felt it too,
In the blink of an eye years became the silver sand,
That on holding only slipped from the hand,
We had always been moving in circles, graying at the temples,
The doors were many,
A few knocked and were blessed,
But those who entered never came back,
For them the globe had become a point,
A center from where the cycle began.

Photo courtesy- The Song Of The Sufi Masroof