shimmer beneath sand
writing and poetry by Saraswati Nagpal
the new moon this week in India arrives after the dark night of the cosmic dance of Nataraja – the dance of light and shadow, sub-atomic pulse of the universe. and in the Chinese tradition, this new moon ushers in the year of the fire horse. I have been thinking of crossroads, of choice-points, of the past, when the younger self struck that bargain: sacrificed soul for structure, and of the present, when structure crumbles, and soul rushes back in like a great tide. Sometimes these crossroads are mirrors: the past is another's reflection, the present's flood is inevitable-- a dance of loss and reclamation occurring side by side.
CROSSROADS Saraswati Nagpal To put on socks when the sea waits beside you is to orient your body towards extinction— like telling a woman who has travelled a long, long way, that the oasis is a mirage. She knows water like the eagle knows sky— her breath tuned to wet shimmer, ears drinking its strained gurgle beneath shoveled sand. Cement can hide a body, not an ocean, not forever. On the right, a man pours concrete, documents his death in verse. On the left, a woman sings water.
last week, Jai Michelle and I read love poems we love – a confluence of west and east, love and devotion in verses by Hera Lindsey Bird Chen Chen, Jack Underwood, Ibn Arabi & Sanwal Gurmani. you can listen to them here.
and if you missed submission lists from our editorial team earlier this month, find them here.
thank you for reading and for sharing our weekly joy.
until next week…
Saraswati and Jai Michelle
today's artist: øjeRum is a Copenhagen-based artist and music-maker. You can find their art on @oejerum their artwork featured in this newsletter was first published in our issue Ancient.
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