Questions for the New Year

Why is it that when we sleep, when we are siezed by slumber, our senses abducted by Morpheus, defended by Varuna, and when the alarm clock mercilessly reverberates in our ears, we cling onto every slipping second with a desire hitherto unknown in our waking hours? Why is it that why hunger impales us, when our gastrointestinal juices cascade like a waterfall upon the abyss of our stomaches, we hold the palest grain of rice with a renewed esteem, a revolutionary change from the usual culinary disdain when the dam of our vile bellies are clogged with rice? Why is it that when kisses rain upon our cheek, our arms securely linked with the torch bearer of our amorous flame, our minds welded, souls blended, that the utterances of our mouths and meditations of our hearts exhibit the most saddening transience, vanishing in the flutter of an eyelid once the tempest of conflict extinguishes our love? Why, in these circumstances, do we escape from every mirror, every reflector and prophet of truth, every harbinger that mocks our inconsistency? Perchance the lemongrass fragrance at the other end be infinitely more tantalising to my nostrils? Or my reflection upon the placid lake be not as unforgiving? If a soul were to have two dispositions, as a coin two sides, as the day barely tinctures the night, may my arcane Other overwhelm my troubled locution and bathe me in a therapeutic light.