Closed Track Poem by Chandan Dey

(I)

Gushing from the vent of imaginary zero the embryonic cell from its gremlin nucleus is heaving a sensitive bird, whose beak is sketching a two dimensional picture of the space upon a swift cursory examination and telling us the story of its flight. Its trajectory is a misty capsule of silent words.

(II)

This quiet murky valley is making two opposite sides of the sky - real & imaginary, grass & tree, wave & particle, left spin & right spin, tolerance & intolerance, democracy & dictatorship, dolls & development and the last but not the least bad touch & good touch, leaving us complete speechless! The coded message in that complex neutrality explaining our progressive gravity puts a question to us: Why do you get feared or apprehended in facing the variable shape of time, though you are the bravest protagonist of the free thought? But the same ticktock goes on... We turn out to be an athlete who fails to look through the conflict straight and not finding his way of egress runs nonstop along a closed time-track!