Something Is There Poem by HARVENDRA SINGH

"The heart measures what the clock cannot record."

The sun rises, the sun sets,
Bringing the freshness of another morn.
The wind moves, the birds sing,
The clock ticks, the earth turns on.

Every particle owns its electrons,
Every field welcomes its farmer.
Everything has its reason to exist —
Yet something is there
That pricks my heart.

I know not why —
It beats faster, or slower.
Perhaps something is missing,
Perhaps something is lost.

Who knows how to fall apart,
Or how to console the silence?
It seems the system inside
Still falters in its code —
Perhaps a circuit of hope
Has quietly burned out.