The uselessness of water

By Virginia Jasmin Pasalo

 

SO you are in love. And you know what you think you know but don’t. And you don’t because you know what you think you know. And yet, you plunge. You drown. Like a fish caught in midair by a bird, unable to free itself from the tight bite, and struggling, slips away, wounded, plunging to the depth of the sea.

Pain

10 December 2020 10:30 a.m.

when truth stings

and you still pick

a thorny rose

and blood runs

through your fingers

and you lick

the wound

that sliced deeper

than the cut

itself.

Death becomes a possibility in the passion that consumes like wild fire. You are caught in the flame. You want to stop the dance, but the wind fans the flame. Water is unable to put out the conflagration, not even the heaviest of rain. And then everything is reduced into embers, and the ashes travel with the passing wind.

 

Ecology of the deep

10 December 2020 12:42 p.m.

there is a reality

underneath

that roots

much deeper

than any anchor

you can give

to make a seedling grow

what the hands can do

to nurture

and whatever love

the heart can give

can never approximate

the depth of the miracle

that happens

In the dark.

And you heal. Again you grow. Like wild grasses, stumps of trees and nocturnal creatures of the earth razed by the harsh weather, spring to life. You grow, from the explosion of raw emotions that burned the ground, where the whispers of longing and cries of sorrow gives birth to the most delicate and exquisite refinement of you.

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