Cosmos 

The cosmos

Is a livid reflection

Of a child just born.

With its unearthly beauty

reflected in the orbs,

Of the untainted.


The gleaming stars,

In the blaze of dusky twilight

Are like the light,

reflecting in the eyes.

Vividly bent and twisted

A mosaic of time.


It is humongous ,

yet so small.

It has the shine

Of the toothless smile,

With moist pink lips

And plummy cheeks of child.


The cosmos

Is a wreaking vortex 

Like the child grown up

With tantrums in beauty

And a denial  

For a tranquil limit.


It is the turmoil of change,

Moving on its own accord

Answerable to none.

It resonates,

When the resonance can’t be heard

And shouts shattering silence.


It is passionate,

The milky galaxy of allure .

Like the salvation 

Of an artist young.

The one with a gaping hole

And nothing to fill the void.


The cosmos

But in reality is the old man,

Lounging in the wooden chair.

Talking of things,

He has survived

And the apocalypse seen.


It is the serenity of white 

The hair on the head half bald.

As he talks of the mistakes he saw

And the one he made.

Like the galaxy narrating

Of asteroids and the breaking shade.


It is in the wisdom

That the years had to offer,

No one has survived the cosmos

as no saw the old man,

From birth to death

Each counting last breath.

Akanksha Krishnatre 

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6 thoughts on “Cosmos 

  1. Quite profound. The thoughts about the cosmic canvas are always rather fluid, its always such an effervescent musing. Unlike thinking about people. They are very complex and troublesome to think about. I wonder why you chose an analogy loosely comparing both.

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    • The cosmos is usually related with romance. But to me romance never truly justifies how intricate and complex the interstellar sky truly is. The human mind is so alike to the galaxy, the cosmos. With such intricacy and brilliance. Both avid beauty of the creator.

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      • Ahahaha, and I always thought romanticism is riddled with intricacies in the truest sense. What is the point of it all if not for romance? I only wish to gaze at the beautiful and It is what paints everything with such a stellar depth. That and sadness of-course. It is always a play of opposites, much to my annoyance. And I’d certainly not want to talk about the mind. I am much to intimidated by my own to make a prolifically written opinion on it. But I am very much amused by your thought process. Fascinating.

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      • Romance is not about intricacy but intimacy. There is nothing simpler then love. Be it a mothers love for her child or a pets for his master.
        One emotion love but There are 7 billion people and 7 billion thoughts.
        We all have our own definition for things. You Sir are experienced, I am a mere child. Neither my opinion is better than yours nor yours is better than mine.
        Happy writing Sir.

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      • Oh no. Tsk, don’t talk about romance in such a terribly basic way. And the number of people might be finite, but thoughts have always been, as they should be, infinite. 🙂 I have no experience and neither am I worthy of being referred to as ‘Sir’ in any context, honesty or sarcasm alike. haha. Also I’d reckon I’m not much older than you.
        Ah’ nevermind. Happy writing Akanksha.

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      • Ah! As I said, we all have our opinions. I do not strive to change yours nor any more than I know your views won’t change mine.
        Why don’t we agree to disagree.
        That was honesty Sir, not sarcasm. I am amused as to why would take my words as mockery. Well anyway . Happy Writing Sir.

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