The Road Winds Poem by Procyon Mukherjee

Here I am, about to stoop over temperance
For a man, my friend, no more
His was full while mine is beating,
Betwixt rest and restfulness

He was with Kepler's planetary motion,
When I was struggling with alphabets
He became a partner with Ernst
When I began my enquiry into questions

Of life around and Living
We have trod small in a winding road
And debated the end
Of an argument

The more I travel his road
The smallness creeps
How small, how hapless I stoop
To the greatness around

Many are gone, friends, feuds or a promise
The year raises its toast to the last sigh
Of relief or an abandonment
For the long arm of justness

That is transient,
Every view has a meaning
Every corner a view
Questioning the limits of reason, the road winds