What's Not Done

in the womb of the night

i let myself count

what's left undone

in the wink of a moment

they call a lifetime

to grasp the whispered

tales of the wind

to swim away with the

gracious clouds

to playfully whack

the peaks so high

just to startle them out 

of their yogic stance

to snooze on the 

top most branch

of that tree

so near to my window

yet left  unseen

hugging the shimmers 

of a chuckling sun

pirrouette amidst the stars

forlorn 

humming the tune

oh so bygone

resting my head against the

crystal arch of the

crescent moon  🌙

and let the goons

wear out their wars

unbind the width of 

the azure sky with a

a measuring tape of 

sartorial delight

and wrap it around

like a chiffon dress

creases saved

and wrinkles unpressed

to wisk away to a

a god forsaken land

where no-one knows 

who i am

throughout this birth

i wasted time in 

 weighing my bags

 leaving much undone

will i get a wisp 

of a chance

to shirk away

what i ought not done

before the clock's

overwhelming sigh

to swipe away the debris

and say goodbye 

 Shared with Poets and Storyrellers United