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Life is a trial, lets face it.
by Ashok Sharda
I am propelled
By an instinct
Inherent.
I sense an urge
An inborn drive
Driving through me
Driving me through every thing
Driving every thing through time
The synonym of life
At a pace
Faster than the pace of the passage of time
Faster
And faster
I just dont want to stop
I CANT STOP.
Why cant I stop?
Eventually, I jump
Jump into that
Bottomless dark abyss
Which appears before me
In the moments, dead
In the moments, I am dead.
I still dont stop.
The drive
Drives me ahead of the passage of time
To the moments yet to arrive
At a pace
Faster than the passage of time
Oh! I want to run
Unhindered to the next
And next
To my certain end
Despite all the uncertainty attached to it.
Invariably, I RUN, unhindered
Commencing my run
With the commencement of the day
Living and reliving the day
Caused by my yesterdays
Caused by the situations
Without
Permeating me within
Permeating within without
But never in the course of this run
I stop to sense
That I was running
In my absence.
One who is born
Is condemned to live
This process of death
Hand in hand
With the process of life.
But one who lives
From moment to moment
Also dies from moment to moment
Still, in the moment one is alive
Though the coil spring
Is bound to decoil
With the passage of time.
Aware of the absurdity
And the labor in vain
One shall have to carry this burden
With courage
Imbibed with passion and pain
Onto the steep mountain
Condemned to fall back again
Like Sisyphus
One shall have to climb back again
Climb back again
Climb back again.
Life is a trial
With apparently no permanent acquittal
Nor can it be postponed
Indefinitely.
Every moment of postponement
Shall tantamount to creating a buffer
Barricading you from you
You from your life
From becoming
From being.
Lets face the trial
Since one can only live in the living
Transmuting the process of death
Into the process of life.
10/27/2003 Author's Note: I am dedicating this to my sister, Bonnie J Adams. Though, this piece is directly addressed to her, I wish, each one of you to face this trial rather than postponing it, indefinitely.
Posted on 10/27/2003
Copyright © 2025 Ashok Sharda
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Max Bouillet on 10/27/03 at 02:25 AM A trial... seemingly depressing until the end which is positive. Great philosophy with incredible images. Thank you for sharing this. |
| Posted by Maureen Glaude on 10/27/03 at 03:44 AM beautiful. Yes, the process, as I often tell myself, is the point (whether in working to acquire what we call "success") or in surviving, even more importantly. Cheers to all we survivors, over the tests so tough! that sweeten the survival itself |
| Posted by H.M Stevens on 10/27/03 at 04:11 AM good process....i like it from beginning to end, end to beginning |
| Posted by Michele Schottelkorb on 10/27/03 at 05:54 AM reading your writing prepares those of us who find solace in your words for these trials... thank you for putting it so eloquentely... excellent piece... blessings my friend... |
| Posted by Don Coffman on 10/27/03 at 09:14 AM Fascinating piece. The repetition and progression of phrases (such as Permeating me within/Permeating within without) are especially effective and fitting for the subject; which is especially ponderous and presents an interesting view of existence to consider. |
| Posted by Jeanne Marie Hoffman on 10/27/03 at 01:27 PM Icing: In this poem, you bring up a lot of the fear I have--that each moment we are each dying more and more each day. However, you give this fear a resolution :) |
| Posted by Graeme Fielden on 10/28/03 at 01:40 PM this is jam packed with pearls of wisdom and insight Ashok ... you have truly excelled yourself here Ashok - thanks for sharing your wisdom :) |
| Posted by Mara Meade on 10/29/03 at 04:36 PM Amen to Ashok and Bonnie. |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 10/31/03 at 05:18 AM I don't know how you do it, but lately you seem to be eavesdropping on my life, taking some secret mystical Indian vision from within you to my path. I especially like the part about living and living in the moment. Just this morning it was the only thing that made me "momentarily" sane. Wonderful, thoughtandsoulprovoking piece, Ashok. |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 10/31/03 at 12:10 PM if our lives are runaway trains it may be for the inherent coal burning within and the hesitancy of the conductors to break or alter their course or to face the uncertain prospects of the rails laid out conveniently before them. |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 12/03/03 at 05:44 PM I don't not what moment or planet I was living on when you posted this Ashok, but glad I finally got to read it. The soapbox tone works well here, and I especially enjoyed that second last stanza. |
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