Sheetal Martine Joseph
You see, one day
I woke up and realised
I could
no longer
Sing.
My limbs weighed down and crumbled
into dead seabeds,
the pit of my stomach,
an endless maelstrom,
violently unaliving and burying
sacred creatures that
once flourished there;
now, just a mirage of
what once thrived.
Until then,
I revelled in enchanting
Maaya
Upon everything that
I held
precious.
I was careful,
nurturing with whispers of a heart
that sought to create space,
to spare those around me from torment.
You see,
I loved a balance.
Washing over shores,
enriching them as I could,
killing off malignants
and breeding nutrients
A dance of life -
a self-mend and rebirth
as well as
grounds for forage
for those
that needed it the most.
But then,
things changed.
You see, they forged boundaries
where corals released gametes
that mate, bond and are carried
by currents defined by no lines
drawn on flattened maps
where within these realms
multitudes of life cycles
emerge
in symphony.
They forged boundaries
just to
Contain.
To some degree,
I complied
I wanted to
because I wanted to try
for them -
perhaps because
of that thread that weaves
all fragments scattered
from the same matter
even megaannum away.
But then
they began poisoning us,
extracting too much
from within the boundaries they drew,
expecting us to yield
an infinite times over
from within the containment -
a burden so heavy,
that it can cause collapse into an abyss
where even light may be lost.
They took away my precious children
one by one
and erased vital ceremonies
that helped sustain my spirit.
And then when I descended into calamity
from the disorder they sowed
at my core
so that they could pull the strings over
and around me
I still tried to withhold the havoc
for those who perhaps
still depended on my waves
to navigate dreams -
theirs, mine and
that of the universe’s.
Yet, the demands
remained relentless.
I guess they can get
many like me and you
to keep
Giving
by showing us
an illusion of a reward,
for turning a blind eye
and erasing our depths
like they never existed.
But Darling,
once you feel the trenches
from up the ripples of the surface
you will realise
just what
and how much
you are losing.
So it wouldn’t matter then
if you lose your shelter,
can’t afford to eat
or exchange gems for access,
‘Cause
you have already given up -
your bodies, your spirits
an untapped haven
and the cosmic entanglements
all of it
coming from
solely
from within you.
So when you see
me collapse,
become stagnant,
embodying calamity
and moving in cyclones -
on failure to contain
the hurt and the pain
ingrained in me
for decades
since I was first here
that has been moving
in spirals
inside my body
in scalding heat waves -
Only even able to crave out
words and create language
for the phenomena now-
If it is decided that I
need to be punished
for it
for unable to
produce and give
like I used to
even if one of them
who dictates my fate
have just moved here
and think,
this calamity they see
is all I am and ever will be -
Then there is nothing
that I can do but grieve
and accept
while wondering
in visceral rage and agony -
how those
who have
scarred,
and killed thousands
even millions;
poisoned
and suffocated
bodies, rivers, lands
and even the vast endless
ocean;
tried to erase
entire people,
their memories, traces
and silhouettes
for decades,
even centuries;
They still go unpunished
while beings like me
and perhaps you
are punished over and over again
for every raindrop that spills over
until the entirety of us collapses
under the weight of the black hole
they have created.
Eclipsing that
even an ocean needs to just let
Be
time, space and patience
so that every broken fragment within
can weave a new tapestry of life
and reemerge
but a crime
even to just grieve
or collapse
‘Cause a caged bird is deemed useless
if its throat is bleeding
and can’t sing anymore.