“A school or a Ferris wheel?”
Ferris wheel, I yelled.
I would always yell out of joy.
A swirling ride, where we looked like bubbles
Revolving for the sake of hovering again.
The screams were faint all this while
And as I grappled for the last bit of His fingers
I couldn’t yell but instead lost my voice
Ferris wheel never happened again.
Newborns are too light to carry.
Her velvety pink feet, touch my palm
I watched those rolling bubbles again
those faint screams,
this time reached my chest
The thud spiralled out of my skin
Slowly taking the shape of His fingers.
This sonography failed to explain
Sometimes even the loudest of cheers
rip you through
While the faintest of them make you reach out
I reached out for His fingers
I never remembered the place where those hands left for
Bubbles, they don’t have a vision
Either they fade out hovering
Or burst out before touchdown.
The moment I sat cupping the flushed pink life
I felt His fingers
Cradling both of us
And this time the bubble didn’t burst out.
We didn’t want to go down.
We never did.
Sonography of emptiness – Poems India
Write a poem with two different perspectives – Silverleafpoetry