A Crack in My Canopy

By Saumya Tripathi

There's a house in the midst of nowhere; I built it and covered its roof with thatching grass,

It had a single room for the wind to roam free,

But rain, heat, and dust tore through its frailty, so, I crowned it with a ceiling.

With sweat and time, I built a tough roof,

To guard me from the world disguised as a bluffing wolf,

It carved me into something strong

Beneath its shade, I felt like a symphony unsung.

As time passed, I noticed a hole in my ceiling,

Mistook it for bravery, dismissed this feeling.

The rain, the gray haze no longer haunted me.

Their thunder and light could not steal my morning glory.

One day, I felt a teardrop on my cheek, my eyes were dry but nowadays the world was weeping daily.

Nature was celebrating its despair, so it fell in love with my canopy and sought solace there.

My gaze shot up and we made eye contact,

I noticed cracks lining its heart,

In a glimpse, we were shedding silent tears.

We spent the last night together embracing each other's brokenness.

As the morning came, a part of me was drenched in remorse.

I realised the rain had won, and it would never be the same.

The rain mocked me with thunderous applause,

I sat in grief with my hands folded and cried out, 'Help me, my Lord!'.

He arrived like a burning fireball in my land,

I followed the signs and noticed the time falling like a pile of sand.

A nomad like me was never meant to settle, so I left it all behind and retreated in a flash.

I ran as if the world was my oyster, my body cracked like peeling ceiling paint,

Too tired to fight, too tense to faint.

A tension so sharp like fate's own killing saint.

I was not envious of the sky today,

I was the flash of lightning which came in like a bolt from the blue.

It blurred my vision and I entered into something shaped by my imagination,

Absolutely big enough to hide all my imperfections.

I laid there unconscious all night.

Waking up in daylight’s limelight—quietly screaming: I'd won this fight. To my surprise, my amber eyes cried tears of victory, which once saw catastrophe and waited to die.

'It was a home', my soul whispered, I'd learned my lesson—one bitten twice shy.

Like sinking to the sea's deepest floor— I might've drowned, but now I've learnt to flee to ashore.

I pass on my incandescent aura as I swayed around the house feeling like I was the star of the opera.

By Saumya Tripathi