


I
The bed's been made,
glasses removed
from all four ancient heads.
End of the Kalpa is near.
Brahma is already yawning,
wearing his night gown.
Soon he'll turn out the sun,
moon and stars,
keep the rosary beads under his pillow,
tilt the hourglass,
and call it a day.
II
When he'll snore,
there shall be storms.
Tremors when he shall turn sides
and cyclones when me moans
during a nightmare.
To the tune of destruction,
Natraja performs his Tandava.
But hush! The muslims think it's Qayamat.
The Christians feel it's
judgement day. Little do they know,
it's only Brahma napping.
It's only a pralay.
III
From nothing,
the cosmos rises for a few centuries.
We invent
the telephone, television, nuclear bomb
and internet
and the world is dead again.
Brahma had perhaps,
woken up for a glass of water,
from the taps of samay.
IV
Now Brahma wakes up, yawning,
and the universe
Expands with his mouth.
He stretches his arms,
and the cosmos widens further.
Good morning Brahma. Have a nice Kalpa.








and much love~ Desire~*~
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