If Time Could Tell

February 11, 2006

what is it that pulls me back
when no words have been spoken,
when all there is is a bleak smile,
a paltry token
to tide over the pauses.

Possibility perhaps…
a tingle in the air,
and a certain flair
when you light a smoke–
a question or a statement,
I am never sure.

And the silence,
thick as fiberglass,
keeps me from the center…
changing, always,
and still the eyes proclaim
“I am the unchangeable”.

Changeless, maybe…
but how does one know the knower?
If time could tell…

–13th Nov 2005



  1. Seems like just yesterday when i’d asked you in class what you were so busy with…scribbling away into that notebook of yours. And when you let me take a peek ( it didn’t take too much cajoling )… I wished i hadn’t.

    For reading the lines that flow from your quill put any feeble attempts of my own at penning thoughts, to shame.

    You have a gift… one day it will bear fruit.

    Isn’t it such cruel irony that beauty is inspired by melancholy?

  2. touches a chord deep inside..

  3. Lovely .. I’m glad I arrived on the page..

  4. Glad I arrived

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