A Tryst With Self

By Damini Banerjee

That day was brimming with light,

The couch that held me, the tea I sipped,

This notebook that I took to write,

Chirps of the distant birds, tides of my breath,

And orchids in the balcony I held in sight,

Were all prepared to water my charred soul. 

I took a dip down with a tide

And down in the depths I took a ride

The journey freighting to the abyss of pain

Coiled down and down in an endless drain-

Until I ended up with a version of myself. 

My reflection had eyes and heart of a nest-

For me to seek solace.

She knew where it hurt,

She had touched and felt that sundered space. 

We chatted over our tea;

We braced the hurt with love and compassion,

Soaked the surrounding serenity,

And it's comforting and shielding beauty.

We understand the fleeting disposition, 

Of people outside us

Are too feeble to shelter me,

Only that refuge built with the concrete of one's own self

Shall always remain to be.

By Damini Banerjee