Let our cataclysms usher in the dawn
and may the miasmas never brood nor spawn.
Let imagination scale its fence
and absolve itself of its unyielding defense.
Please keep in mind the hard-won light
that envelops the heart formerly in the night.
They say the Kingdom is you, and you are it–
we’re just charlatans in their life force making a divine split,
between what is quivering and what is firm
then for all, we seize and sense what burns
between words, actions, motives, sheets,
I can’t make it anymore discrete.
© Priya Atiyolil 2019
