I sit above the bothersome grass
that pokes in every direction
Plates keep loading on top of my head
Like I’m a gym rack that’s not to be used
And as I gaze up into the vortex
that has been swallowed by the luna nova,
I think that even after I’ve been crushed by this weight,
the pile will continue to prevail
Have the previous dawns and midnights
been providing reassurance on the upcoming
middays and twilights?
My judgment is blurred
Will the next sunrise bring forth a day
that shines as much as the sun?
So much so, that when nightfall comes
I will be anticipating a second wave of glimmer?
The possibilities dance in front of me
As I lay on this spot, my eyes don’t shift from
The faint, circular light, who winks at me with hope
I think about it in the approaching days,
Which will be full of indefinite rise and falls,
Will still I be cornered atop the bothersome grass,
Or will I be over the moon?
This was written by our contributing writer, Sam Shanmuga.
Image Source: Unsplash, J. Brouwer
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