Primordial are all impulses
For nothing ever changes
Since Times immemorial,
From leaves to dresses
Perhaps, back to leaves
Fashions all, sartorial.

True of habits, too
A matter of much ado
When basics remain the same,
Don’t take things too seriously
Its just a little play with Time
Just another game.

There is no night without a morning
And, yet nothing changes
The Sun, the Moon, the Stars, the Seas,
A play of light and some dark
Shadows, that come and go
Triumphant,  is the breeze

As the winds of change
That all footprints
Seem to ,sadly, blow all away,
Nowhere does Time go
No vanishing trick
No magician here at play.

A footprint replaced by another
Till that, too
Gets lost in the Sands of Time,
To start again
At the very beginning
Another life, another rhyme.
 

Think of the world as a Circus
Man, Animal, Nature et al
Look at the clowning out there,
For billions of years
It’s been like this
Nothing ever changes, my dear.

Plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose (The more things change, the more they stay the same)

(The author is a prolific poet who has over 30 poetry books to his credit. He can be reached at ashoksawhny06@gmail.com/ www.ashoksawhny.com)