There was never a sea at my home
only summers of raging sienna
that burnt its way to my dreams
I as a boy stroked the sky,
stirred its desolate landscape
grew its waves and scarred the fort
I thought of oceans that might flow down
suddenly
and the heat that would cripple it
I slept in the kothi courtyard
clothed in an expanse of shrill dark
sometimes only I heard them coming
The first smell of rushing rain
of strides and thugs
I ran holding the night and ma’s hand
between splatters of mud that broke the wrath
and high peal laughter securing me to my mother’s heart
I have a sea now as I had always dreamed
and the sky is still very desolate
there isn’t the fort
nor the kothi courtyard
the summer here doesn’t burn me anymore
nor my dreams
I take my mother to the beach at times
faltering steps over sand
searching for our home
together again.
