Published May 15th, 2024
by Shradha Mohan
in the urban ridges
beside a humble forest
on the grounds of a mythical river
we found a portal below our nest
didn't we?
we kept falling down, down, and down
going up, up, and up the sky
we might as well die
and reincarnate
cleansed and new
absolutely pink
with no trace of blue
we fly so high
yet we lay low
we carry our darkness
beneath our halo
we ride off in the sunset
we ride on in the storms
we shapeshift baby
we assume forms
who would ever know
when we speak, what we mean
who'd ever believe
all the things we've seen
it's our best-kept secret
the underwoods beneath our beams
creepers in our books
moss in the nooks
the lagoon in our alcove
we sink into the mire of
the quicksand in our floors
an old guard stands
crouching at our doors
we captured a bit of
Himalayan aurora
in the lamps that we lit
many moons before, a
warlock from a crypt
gave us a spell
to find an ingress
between heaven and hell
and we might as well
die and reincarnate
like the first sun rays
absolutely golden
with no trace of grey
About the Poet
Shradha Mohan resides in New Delhi, India.
Read the poet's biography on Shradha Mohan's Artist Page.
This poem is collected in Comet #2, published in the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
Previously published in India Poetry Magazine:
You or I
by Sumana Sinhababu
India Poetry Magazine is part of the Wax Poetry and Art Network.
- Visit the main Wax Poetry and Art Submissions Page to see all opportunities.
- Visit the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
- This website and all contents ©Kirk Ramdath and specified artists.
(Advertisements)