The First Waters – I

Beneath the waves and behind the blind,
the Kingdom waits, unmeasured and unconfined;
its throne is coral, carved of shattered suns,
and its law is the tide that mourns when and what it becomes.

The Queen of foam holds court in the night,
her crown is silver, forged of broken light;
she smiles at pearls that chant hymns of kings,
then drowns their echoes in the sea’s dreams.

What care has Ocean for the realms above?
It drinks all grief & swallows every love.
Those cities fall and towers rust to sand,
yet still the tide returns to the same land.

Wanderer of air, of heavenly mansion,
the Euphrates slowly dries in your contention,
for soon you know all is but mineral upon the sea,
and every crown dissolves to naught but memory.

© Priya Atiyolil 2024