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Writer's pictureAishwarya Jayal

One Stormy Afternoon

I'm submerged, body numb;

moving with the waves but frozen in position.

water swirls around me,

pulling me to the front

pushing me from the right

tearing at me from the left

its like water is trying to use me as an anchor to not drown in itself.

but it's slippery.

And it's gone.

new water replaces it.

But its all the same to me.

This water takes my vision away,

its breath, bubbling into my face.

Its breathing is furious, it devours air.

But air and water cannot intertwine,

so air escapes.

And water, angry, agitated,

leaps higher, and so goes the cycle.


I thrust one hand out,

to feel something more than water.

For water's making its way within me.

It claims me, like it couldn't claim the air.

How lonely does water feel?

So much living inside it,

but never truly at one with someone.

Fire chooses to die, rather than live with it,

or chooses to burn on it,

merging with the air.

A true union of lovers,

on the cold body of a jealous past love.

Air, mixes with everyone,

flowing in and out;

but only plays with the water's surface.

Provoking it, but refusing to give itself to water.


Earth is too heavy to mix with water,

It has taken on its loneliness as a mantle.

It only observes,

Playing with water, as a its child,

and soon, retreating to its solid abode.


Its strange,

but now the air feels cold,

and the water, warm.

Looking up, I can see the angry clouds,

Lonely water's last attempt to merge with air thwarted,

Condenses to burst its wrath.


I cannot see anything below me,

but above me,

the canvas is painted;

with clouds,

and with memories.

Each jolt of lightening brings forth a happy yesterday,

I can feel their warmth now.

But the bridge between us,

the stark expanse of nothing,

the air,

seems unnecessary.

Water has come from water,

to merge in water.

It doesn't need air.

And so, my hand drops,

as my spirit rises.

Beyond the air, water, earth and fire.

One with the zero.


And the water crashes down onto itself,

screaming, thundering,

bawling in despair.

for it couldn't have another love yet again.

And it pushes the body out from within its deep embrace,

onto the surface.

The body floats along to the earth,

where it belongs,

and earth makes room for its eternal rest.

And the water,

exhausted,

calms itself.

Another soul lost in love today.


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1件のコメント


shrey bhatnagar
shrey bhatnagar
2020年10月25日

Nicely written ...

いいね!
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