Pursuit

My moment has arrived, in time devoured

Extent to complete hanging onto my hat

Contour of the verge scored

Glimmer of a fiction or fact.

How implausibly stable I’d think,

The demeanour of the constant while,

I’d float in the immovable wave of time

In the preface of my story’s ink.

With hand-holding years seemingly few

Stages slowly passed by

Confines time and again anew

Made me forget, wingless boater could fly.

Today, having arrived at the near end of my game

My seat on the proem as I see,

Everyday dressed just the same

On the flower is the busy blending bee.

Permanence or cliff-hanger, both lie,

In their lazy chorus underlying theme,

Euphonious time stays, appears to wither and fly

Around the balanced, resolute stream.

The Bengali version of the poem is অভিযান, posted here.