In the transition between water and ice
I spoke my words inside an air pocket
and let it freeze over

Time slows, silent water bullets plunge down
Bullets of regret, shame and selfishness
Piercing air. Explosions release the pain
Quiet puddles. Mixture of water,salt and dirt
Forgiveness comes next. By God and self
Tears fall to the floor. So does regret and shame
Most of all unforgiveness falls. Whispering. Be free my child

There is something within me
something I cannot say
the song of my soul steps forward
but I cannot translate it today

This song moves within me,
of love and choice and grief,
it stabs and bleeds my mind,
a sword without a sheath

The song of my soul is true
each of us finds it in time
yet until that fateful day
this poet struggles with her rhyme

Stone by stone,
stacked with Roman concrete,
the wall must be built.
If I build it,
some part of me will be lost.
If I do not,
some part of me will be crushed.
My own vanity and pride
cannot withstand
the passing whims of others.
If only I could dig a moat
around my heart.
I feel dramatic,
but I will not remain
encumbered
with this nonsense.
I have always longed
to be a warrior,
to fight, to defend that
which I love.
But until this day,
I failed to love my heart.
So I must be a shieldmaiden for it.
To protect myself, yet know
when to raise the gates.
Perhaps I am too immature,
I ask for that which
only comes with time.

Tyger Tyger. burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye.
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies.
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat.
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp.
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears
And watered heaven with their tears:
Did he smile His work to see?
Did he who made the lamb make thee?

Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

This morning I made my shield.
Last night I knew it must be.
Laying there after,
I knew.
Never ask a friend in the sheets
what you mean to them.
Especially not after.
But foolish I was,
yet this fool turned pain to wisdom.
I woke and dressed, looking back with an ache in my heart.
It always comes back to this:
my vanity,
my need to be important,
to someone, some man
rather than myself.
It is the gap in my armor.
I strode out into the yard,
there I sacrificed myself to myself.
The blood painted the wood
the color of my heart.
I nailed it with heartbreak and rejection,
and polished with old tears,
it shone.
Battle ready, fear left me.
The shield was new
but the strength was old.
Upon my arm it would ever hold.

The fire of passion burns like ember
Only to ignite fire in their heart
Waiting to engulf both the souls
In frenzied tango, that they perform
Unaware of the wildfire that started
With blazing passion, consuming the paradise*


© Amitav (Radiance)