Three years ago, my first book ‘Water to Water’ was published.
Seeing your poems in print does offer an indescribable, bitter-sweet rush. But in hindsight, I learnt that putting a book out is not as much of a milestone as writing something that showcases how much you have progressed as a writer, as a poet, as a witness of the times, as a person. But on June 4th, 2019, I just sat and stared after I unboxed the first set of author copies. I immediately began to count the people who would never get to read my book.
This is a poem from the book, that I’ve never posted on my blog before.
Love, for instance
Love, for instance, waits as I write. Silent. Reads a page aloud
sometimes, with liquid vowels and mellow consonants, a different
dialect, lines I cannot recognize as my own. We cry together. The
sea was our first mistake. Something we can’t undo. Untouch. Or
stop. That ocean, you tell me, turns to the shore even on the opposite
side. I watch you go. How does the moon walk away at dawn? To
remedy sins, we build temples. We blame the gods and hide them,
safely, out of sight. We practice separation. Disentangle the cold
waves. The wind pauses, faithless. I marinate days in nights filled with
brine. What happens when an unexpected transformation lets us in
on its secret? I read the poem again, sticking my voice on the words.
Love waits. Silent. ‘Leaving’ sounds the same in every language.
Water to Water is available on Amazon in print and Kindle editions. Check this link for details.
****** Four new cherita inspired by that poem *****
strange, the way you say goodbye
as if the after-quiet
is a pause
there is nothing
left to say
strange, the love of the moth
that the flame
would extinguish itself
strange, the moonless sky
tightening around my head
wasn’t this sky
strange, that little yellow flower
on the mountain side
the giant rocks
as if it is not afraid