By: Jayanthi Venugopal
I feel the shimmers of the soft white Sun,
the fresh moist of the morning dew,
the gentle lapping of ocean waters and
my own anxiety to set sail on the deep blue sea.
I hear the morning caws of the sea gulls,
the distant rambling from human settlements,
the quiet notes from swaying palm trees and
the drumming of my own tireless heart.
I wait to be untied from the locks of the clasping sands,
from my master’s daily fishing rut,
to unload the weight of my own cargo and
my own fear of water unknown.
I dread to see trapped beings shiver and quiver on my lap, lose their lives to thin air and
my own helplessness to make any difference.
From the faraway horizon a pair of eyes beckon, as they do each day.
A flock of swans heed the call without thought.
And yet, I who feel the call day in and day out refuse to change sail.
I know not why.