“You can’t kill time without injuring eternity”
Said the sage in the woods
We killed time and eternity was served a dent
That whole new paradigm in carrying out a dogged intent
To an end that is only perceived in piles of rubble
And ash, for promises
Of “mentions” on the roster of saints?
The collective Freudian “id” etched with a new bruise
To carry into posterity
A new “original sin”
The fall of man to newer depths
Pre-lapsarian images now in the album of memory
We hear from various shades of holiness
On terrorism’s ugly conundrum
Will it somehow release the gasps that have caught in mid air?
All furled into that “sack” we bear
Which tried unfurling in tri-colors from sea to sea
A show of unprecedented commonality
Shed bias, you are exhorted,
So we embrace again in trepidation
And buoy markets with valiant buy back purchases
Are we ready yet for the second coming?
Late night television hosts, master producers of mean wit
Stare in stupefaction at an audience yet unready for humor
When is it okay to laugh again? To exhale the fear, to press
The reset button on the rhythm of breathing
While you ponder how many diseases could have been eradicated
How children could have learned to read
How hunger campaigns were robbed of their bounty
All discretionary budgets now spent on staving off, what? Whom?
An unfathomable resolve to a cause yet undefined in their brain
Producing a cause in ours we never thought to espouse
Spurred by the replay of hell breaking loose from a blue sky
You flinch as a bird swoops down to the windshield
Echoing Blake’s question, “did he who make the lamb make thee?”
An archetypal sin, a primeval pain sitting on the subconscious
Awakened to a dawn after “ignorant armies clash by night”
Can day be too long?
If our sweetest songs can only tell the saddest tales,
We’ll take sugar substitutes instead
Who can volunteer to rewrite the Candyman’s song?
Autumn starts in four days
Rampant resolve ripening into stark winter white
Unyielding, watchful, still.
First expunge the second original sin
With nanotech precision and care
Let reason offer rules to evil ensnare
The diabolical envoy suffering from an identity crisis
What will the Phoenix look like this time when it rises?
--By Sadhana Seelam