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Serene Sky
Then if we hid from the sun,
I'd plant a dandelion on this trampled earth
and offer a tear to sacrifice the roots.
So what if transcending meant the final
tangling of ground-marrow before I cut it loose?
It must be better to kill mint than taste its sting
upon bits of tongue I've slashed to silence
with this staining sharpie.
But I will paint loud as a piper,
as you should breathe soft as a leper
cast away with the bulkiest
of spider-cloud nets, but never forgotten.
And air-drowned leper, you are still not forgotten
every time I settle like dust on my back and heave
with the joy of creating your legacy
into immortal skyscape dreams,
when I fill lines of straight-blue ice
with boiling water that seeps the sun of your smile,
when I dream of illusionary mountains
that crumble at my outstretched grip on the horizon,
my hand on your world
dark as a fleeing sun.
And I will not let go
or cast away rocks with nets
for you to catch and heave
the weight of my words.
And I will not let go
or brand you castaway like drowning weeds
for you to wrap around pebbles and sink
with the weight of my steps.
I will not let go
or shake the crevasse-clipboard
for you to dance off these leaflets refreshed
while I'm left to fling paint into the sun's ice.
But if the sun truly hid from us,
I'd pluck a dandelion from this trampled earth
and blow a wish to scatter each lingering cloud.
Alia Hussain
Email: Alia Hussain
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