This life

 After all is said and done,
And I am back to atoms and ash;

Even if the worlds stop turning,
As generations come and go;
I wouldn’t have wished this life,
My life - be it as it may,
To have turned any other way.
This unique life that comes once;

This short life with no spare:

Yet with the unique people I  share;

Nothing makes me wish it away:
Nothing of value can give me a scare.
Let it be known to all that come;
And let it be known for all that care.

Eudaimonia

 Time and time again we learn;

About virtues in the human kingdom:

That a life worth living;

Is attained through wisdom.

Not through excess but temperance;

And not through cowardice but courage;

I assure you, son, is attained;

The worthy life of a sage!

A well-lived life is just;

And justice is neither bought nor sold:

It matters not, then, my son;

How much you possess of gold.

If you worry little of externals;

In your pursuit of these virtues;

The world of eudaimonia will be yours;

You shall thrive as you choose.

Timeless irony

 What is in nature like time;

So greedy and stubborn;

That consumes everything;

On its way, at every turn?

What is so impatient like time;

That hustles all but waits for none;

In whose mercy nothing mends;

But in whose cruelty all burn?

Nothing so timeless like time;

In a petty, vindictive way;

Has led everything in existence;

Towards ruin and decay.

What a twist of ironies, then;

That “time heals all things”:

When it should only be acknowledged;

For the decomposition it brings.

Nothing like time, I suspect;

Is so malicious and backward;

With no will to introspect;

But always looking forward.

Consolations

 The little things of this world;

Such as the objects of my desire;

The fleeting moments of joy;

Or the ephemeral bursts of ire:

Are they not the circumstances of my will;

And hence under my own control?

Why, then, are external factors,

Blamed, allowed, to play any role?

The eternal realities of happenstance;

Flowing in conformity with nature;

Are they not beyond the confines;

Of my controlled causal structure?

Why, then, be bothered and mourn;

The things that come unwilled, unsought?

For the trifling things of my brief sojourn;

Are within my control, or not?

My immature soul, be stoic: live the present with virtue;

For the past and the future are, forever, out of view.

The life of man

 Thou shalt not laugh,

Nor shalt thou cry;

Thou shalt not reason, nor yell;

Thou shalt not praise heaven,

Nor canst thou speak ill of hell.

O! Listen! Man of earth!

Know your place, and act;

As would an unconscious shell-

Of nothingness-

With no stories of a life to tell!

Listen to the master of your soulless being,

For else … does it not ring a bell?

[Hint: she will land you in the best of hell,

Of eternity’s potential well.]

Sophos-1

 A year has passed in a blink-

O! Not an ordinary year with the sun,

Aimlessly roaming through the lands-

But a year of light, and one of joy,

With a gem of life in our hands!

Crawling through the times,

‘Has been the year of Sophos the Sage;

Mustering up the courage to crawl,

Through life’s every page.

The paradox of choice

How times have changed,

And choices enlarged;

Of the things and beings around,

That seemingly abound!

I see it here and I see it there;

‘Tis everywhere for me to stare,

As through the window in a shopping store,

With a scanty access to the share,

But with the illusion of choice to the more!