Life’s Textures

a poem by Sangeeta

Days
Tumble into another
As time looses its
Meaning.

The clock
May tick away
Conscientiously its
Every second.

Yet
By now you know,
The fabric of days;
Of life

Has
No space for hours,
The hours are only
For the clock.

Life’s
Textures are built
By moving landscapes
Of the heart.