Sunday Poem: Morning Is Night

If only the night was morning

And the morning was night
Would silence exchange
Its exasperating breath
With the constant din?
Would the clock ticking away
Wait for everyone
To hear its footsteps?
The mind is body
The body is mind
Kapila or Devadutta?
The eternal despair
Of a fading night
The senses alert
To a deep acknowledgement
Of a day gone
Another to come
Waiting in anticipation
Every silent night
Draws me into its embrace
Lulls me to unfathomable dreams
Of distances and spaces apart
I stand alone.

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