Tuesday, January 5, 2010

High spirits and hopes

We laugh, we weep, we hope, we fear.
We wait for the beautiful perfect year.

Like the Indian hornbill thirsting for rain,
We continue our anticipation, in vain.

Without letting go of the past, we stagnate,
With bated breath, the future, we await.

Amidst all these, we seem to forget,
Today, the present, is the best we get.