Most thoughts are already ‘thunk’
Yet they’re far from being junk
As different words join a thought
To beget a differently chanting monk!
You’ve heard monkeys chattering,
Doors creaking, raindrops pitter-pattering
Yet like a sunset hue they differ
In reality, not just a poet’s smattering.
So run your race as you choose
The world too racing is no abuse
Then end your run where you must
As none is destined to win or lose.
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Enjoy your race. Poem. Poetry
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Arvind Passey
03 October 2017
