A Fistful Of Stars: The Golden Gate
Hariharan Balakrishnan's poem brings into sharp focus the transience of human existence.
The Golden Gate opens but once
The silver strands of wisdom rise
The copper bottom is cold as ice
Iron rots and withers away
This life is but for a speck of time
A millionth of a microsecond
Forty winks do count not here
For this blink of Eternal Time
Man is born in the womb of Time
So is woman and every child
Permanence is myth, a shining mirage
Transience is what stays in void
Like fleeting glances, floating bubbles
Flotsam jetsam, timeless driftwood
Painted faces on the TV screen
Or hatred, born of foolishness
