All Our Yesterdays
©January 1st, 2017
By Vijaya Sundaram
All my yesterdays behind me
Galloped down the sloping road
As I stood at the edge
Of the receding year,
Shielding my eyes from today.
And the rest of my life.
The coming days, Fetches all,
Move through my cells,
And leave behind their husks,
Drifting away, wraith-like,
Even as I meet them,
And keep meeting them,
And will keep on meeting them,
As they move, will move,
Will have moved, through me.
And Time has no meaning,
No meaning at all, and still,
I check the clock, and still,
I mark my Calendar, and still,
Look forward to every new day,
Even as it passes through me,
Into the rising dust of all
The days galloping by.
It is this movement I greet,
As I stand in the revolving spot
Of the Eternal Now,
Even as I age, and wither, and
Dissolve into gold dust.
What this means does not matter,
The revolving spot turns, and
I turn and face everywhere, everywhen,
At once, at the same time,
Running into my own face,
Even as I turn and turn, to watch
The days gallop past, fast.
And you are my face, and you, as well.
And I am yours, and yours, as well.
Hold hands, here, in the Revolving Now.
Let the days pass through us all.
And while we’re at it, at our eternal solstice,
Let us make flowers bloom, sing our songs,
And cleanse the air, and feed the young.
They do not know, yet, but they will, soon.
And we must prepare them.
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