Anant Mohan
Its eyes pierce through the veil of time,
seeing echoes and whispers, shadow and shine.
They urge me to watch as life unfolds
To embrace its beauty, both new and old.
Its beak casts songs, both fierce and sweet,
melodies born from chaos and peace.
It hums of calm and roaring strife,
a symphony woven from the threads of life.
Its wings stretch wide, a boundless embrace,
beckoning me to soar to find my place
through open skies, where dreams reside.
It carries me onward, a fearless guide.
To you, the time bird, keeper of life’s brief flame,
you cry my fate, and you call my name.
With you, I rise, I fall, I see—
the fragile gift of life’s brevity.
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