Not A Lost Day Poem by Procyon Mukherjee

No voids, but we begin like clouds
Interpreting each other,
Some make an early start, some must wait
Sometimes a gap or a continuity is a given
In our own lives

I look beneath, in the stillness of an afternoon
Or the stopped water between two rocks
And you can see below as long as you want to
Through the glass, the distant looks close
And you think
Will this moment live long
Or is it just that it is
Me and the afternoon and the stopped water
Peeping like a momentary warp
as if dissolving salt is leaving its traces

I see them around, the next ones, hungry,
As they move fast, or they may be
Like a slow river, bending but
When it matters they can be a rock
Steadfast, but willing to be different
Choosing to be what they are not, they understand their space
Willing to be anything but expected, they surprise you when the moment is about to pass

My desk is unkempt and decrepit like the drawer
And the pages are flying
Each one has to be kept tied to the other,
Precious pieces, as if they made my book
Of every moment and every wish
I am about to list

Am I leaving this to able hands
My life, but a journey of able steps
More people are part,
More forgiving but more strong their intent
Not just to accomplish, but waiting
To serve, just to be there
Or not to be, like a lost day