by Anwesha Mukherjee

Into the lake of formless jewels

The heathen heart

Dived in search of the flawless pearl.

Rowing in its weather-beaten raft

It cruised through the unscripted alcove

Canoed into the unending abyss

Oared the octaves of the expanses

And it lay.                  

Picking the straws of sun rays

Counting the glitters of Cygnus

It lay in anticipation.

In its silent chamber,

It lay in ignorance

Oblivious to the echoes

Of self

Unfolding

The petals of self-acceptance

Unfurling

The waves of self-care

Cascading.

It is no longer confined to paired beats

Or linked couplets

It is now a lettered fragment

Of a monostich

A solo, sacred art

In its shipwrecked existence

It no longer struggles to stay afloat

It lets it sink

It is no longer thrown about

By the unsettled waves

It realises

It is its own boat

Drawn into the tranquil embrace

Of the sea’s serene ballet

An unbounded horizon

Where the sea breathes in quiet response

Where boulevards of societal expectations

Break down

Where ripples whisper aplomb

The sea mirrors integrity

The evening bell chimes

An anthem

Voiced by the sovereign, resilient soul.

In the moonlit theatre

It no longer awaits

The frosty touch of whispered memories

It takes a step

Onto the dewdrops of self

Entangling threads of contentment

And inscribing fortitude

Into the marrow of its very existence.

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