The Scarab & Other Thoughts: Poetry

I incarnate
in fast blinks
that span the breath
of days and nights
left by slumber's
shores

~

And once reached,
I am wakeful,
woken, existing.

~

So hard to sleep
when so much happens
on the outside,
awake and aware,
I see and hear so much

~

These tale-tell signs
on the winds,
like a ticking eye,
reveal everything
to the discerning gaze
All these things
we see are as we are

~

Oh, Mamma Ji,
Kali Ma, Calypso
I see your mark
everywhere,
the ticking of
a beetle marking
down the sands:
scarab

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