The Uncertain Path

By Deepali Singla

I know the path to temple

goes through the forest,

but please don’t ask me how 

dense is the forest.

So, tell me about you—

how’s the blue sea attending to you?

Perturbed hands cling to the keyboard,

poems after poems birthed.

(Clatter of the keyboard sings

in a chorus)

Between speaking and writing,

I choose unspoken words,

for who else knows how to carry

the weight of a broken dam

and overflowing water?

A shack made of beatific bricks 

dismantles in a second

when the city meets fiendish weather.

Building is easy, and flying, too,

but the fall—

it grabs everything from you.

I envision paradise,

fairy-like desires crafting a kind world,

their hearts like paper hooks

binding their lives and their pain.

An angel like dream emerges

then leaps into a dark forest,

like falling from a green tree

into a shadowed well.

“I am fine,” I lie,

more lies upon lies fall,

then disperse.

Truth backpacks and leaves

for paper galaxies

where you’ll find a child

pouring out her heart—

and it won’t be me.

By Deepali Singla