And I was submerged in the water,
six feet down.
I couldn't remember how I became drowned in the ice-cold water,
but through the dark, murky fog, I saw the figure of a hand poke through the holes of light where my bubbles trailed
and it pointed at me,
instinctively, and without (questionably,) a second-thought, I reached my hand up to it
and I was immediately hooked with strips of life, electrifying my pain receptors and nerves
flooding my vessel with the feeling of great life.
Then I climbed to the surface, and I came upon the realization that I was on an island
with beautiful trees bearing fruits of various colors dotted 'round the landscape.
Even though this particular figure had no resemblance to humankind-- it also did,
it was about five feet, five inches in height; its skin solid clear with the chroma of porcelain;
colored in foggy whites and sleepy pinks, elegantly reflecting the sunlight that bathed it.
"What are you?" I blurted out. My chest heaving off the cold.
It did not speak.
"What are you?" I repeated, "and why did you save me?"
All that came out of this pink porcelain figure was a gesture to follow,
and, forgetting the point of my question, I did,
it took me to a river, where the waters had the seductive sound of a jug pouring
tulsi tea into a saucer for its beloved guests
and it pointed to a gentle, crystalizing gleam, and lo, my reflection was there.
Now, it was not a reflection alike any other,
certainly not like the tired expressions you see in the morning rush when we've had our
hygienic routine done.
No, it was an odd reflection, yet captivating.
The reflection was me, but it was also that of the pink porcelain figure's.
There, I saw my eyes looked like those of the pink, porcelain figure's
and my skin glowed the glow like his (or, hers,)
"What is this?" I asked, losing myself in the alluring pull of my own reflection,
"We're the box of stray cats," I heard a voice say,
"and we're the stranger who picks them up and gives them a home."
YOU ARE READING
The Heart that I'm Hearing
Poetry"The Heart that I'm Hearing" is a collected assortment of poems written by Sanahara. This book attempts to express some of the many things that the hearts asks from each other. To want, to be among, to make and to unravel each other in the euphoric...
