Everything is in motion
Whirling, whirling, whirling
Round, round, round
Nothing is at rest
Not the body, not the mind
Not the sun, not the stars
Not fortune, not destiny
Each has its space-time
In which it appears
And then disappears
In between thrashing around
Blindly, but not on its own whim.
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Published by D. Samarender Reddy
Writer & Poet, living in Hyderabad, India. Holds degrees in Medicine (MBBS) and Economics (MA, The Johns Hopkins University). Certified programmer. An avid reader. Worked in various capacities as a medical writer, copywriter, copyeditor, software programmer, newspaper columnist, and content writer. Philosophical in outlook. Bachelor. Vegetarian.
Check out my blog @
https://self-realization.blog
View all posts by D. Samarender Reddy