Slow Motion

By Geethanjali Dilip

Somehow today one feels that the teal sea is not just a hue,

But the colour of emotions leaning towards a longing,

Tepid, brimming with life, when sunlight reaches the ocean bed, stirring life,

Schools of fish merrily forgetting that they are swimmers, against tides,

The bay is a saucer overflowing with infinity pools,

That tides carry back in slow motion,

Capturing the pale emerald of evergreen aspirations,

Ah! The sea is the placenta of earth’s womb nourishing yearning and promise, akogare!

Tethering life in a myriad shores where waves wash over,

Cleansing, anointing, healing, embracing, accepting the grime of births,

While all one can do is keep swimming soaking in golden sunrises, amber sunsets, and argentine moonlight,

As surf suds leave clusters of un-understood poems at feet,

Where footprints are not meant to be imprinted.

By Geethanjali Dilip