Ancient Eyes

The sockets still stare! Awake always are they, even after the twinkling stars have slept in the night’s cradle.

The age-old galaxies far away have slept turning off the cosmic lights! The pair of wooden eyes

Upon your ancient face stare into nothingness to see the unseen, and to re-write the history of time.

Civilizations have been swept clean; its remnants have diffused into the dust-laden pages of history.

Tired rivers have succumbed to the dead seas after long journeys. The antique eyes have seen it all!

Birds have returned homes, after carrying the heavy clouds on their weak wings.

Nights have started after the days have been dusted, and guess what – the eyes still stare in silence!

Civilizations die, seasons come and go like the rays of a celestial cracker. Yes, yet again,

The eyes see it all with patience! In the quest for love, and the amorous warmth that underlies wet skins,

The sockets haven’t slept for thousands of nights, only to witness the wavy fragrance of a rose-stuffed heart!

Attached the eyes have sometimes been to the owl’s primitive sight, or else to the limbs of an old tired clock.

The eyes have with the passing of time, curved the compliant space-time fabric through its scary sight.

And even then, not tired are they! They are wooden pictures of white and black, hiding coy emotions behind them!

They are still awake; they show no aging! Contemplated they are as travelers for ages or eternal pilgrims!

Remain they forever shall in the labyrinth of cosmos, beyond the measure of time only to stare in silence!