Hannah Jones

May 2017

Pradip Chattopadhyay

Two in the night isn't the right time
to be watched over by two eyes in silence
occasionally broken by a hushed voice
pack up sir, madam must be waiting sleepless.

Three in the night and he was right beside me
while the weary moon slanted to west
and dead insects lay on the floor
burned out by the joy of light.

Four in the night he was escorting me home
half a mile up the hill
when the stars were shedding light
fading with the dying night.

He died sometime after I left the island.

On sleepless nights he's there to see me off.
He could never be dead in my head.

In memory of my colleague BUK who died young.
He stood by my side all along my stay in the Andaman Nicobar Islands.

May 2017

Aashi Verma

Feather...

I saw a feather,
In the windy weather.
Flying hither thither,
With no aim either.

Just going with the flow
In a motion so slow.
With a snowy white glow,
On a distance so low...

Sometimes, just a small feather hopping in a windy weather can expel the blues in the mind.

Hannah Jones May 2017

Sermon in the Garden

Daughter, you are enough.
I did not make you with
overabundance or deficiency.
Why do you treat yourself
like you're too much?
Why do you tell yourself
you're not sufficient?

You, who buried yourself
in anger, in loathing,
in misguided insecurities:
I am drawing you out
like a shoot from the earth.
Be patient. Be present.
You're still growing into
the darling flower you are meant to be.
You burst forth in colorful laughter,
in song and in dance,
painting the world with your presence.
Your body stretches toward the sky,
reaching for the Son with everything you have.
A mouthful of crooked teeth
is all the more beautiful
as you bask in the glory of existence.

My wildflower,
I did not create you to uproot yourself,
to hide under the moss or the shrub.
I made your form bold and stark,
unmistakable in My garden.
I made you a captivating blossom,
meant to flourish under My touch.

So dance in the wind.
Sing to the heavens.
Laugh with the birds and the beasts,
for you are Mine.
You are cherished.
You are enough.

So often do we tell ourselves we're too much, we're not enough. We were made to embrace the beauty of the soul and see whose image we are made in. (Matthew 6:28)

#discourse #garden #nature

May 2017

Ian Moonsy

Forewarned

Ashes to ashes,
dust to dust
All these bones that carried
Once gold now only rust.

Why pick up
a dented thing
when it is no more use
for you?

Why pick up
a broken being
when it sees no safe place
or the difference between false and true?

Throw it away,
it's nothing good.
Go on your way,
as you should.

There are thorns here more than roses,
neither a bud or bloom to be seen.
You, traveler, should best be on your guard
Go back to the road where first you have been.

Blood boils not
to a heart that no longer beats;
that no longer sputters life
that was never in the place for keeps.

Keep away, good man;
your sweat is aimed for greater things,
your time for the one who beautifully sings;
your heart for the better and light winged.

Cuts and edges are all I have,
dark eyes and silent lips to give you no grace.
It is a colorful heart you seek - yet mine is shattered,
burnt and black;
I believe I am the wrong one to replace.

To feel you softly,
wholesomely,
that seems to be a dream
made not for my tattered self.

I am too afraid
of breaking you
or being too selfish of the thought
of having you
or taking for granted your life
when I say I do love you -

When you could have been:
better off,
or good without,
maybe even better -
someone else's.

Heavy thoughts - but it's what I am thinking about. But .... what if, what if, what if? I'm sorry I couldn't trust myself any longer. I feel like I'm the mistake here. I always do. I can't help it. I could drown by everything I think about, especially this. You're just too good to be true.
But what if you've chosen wrong, after all this time?

#heart #talk #thoughts #midnight #heavy #depression #sadness #love #pain #hurt

Hannah Jones May 2017

Summer Contemplative

I lay on the concrete,
knuckles scratched from adjusting my shirt to shield my belly from the wind
But it's beautiful.
Laying here
with just enough sun and shade
Headphones in
yet the only surround sound needed
is the gentle roar of the wind in the trees
They shout, they clamour, they dance
then peter off into a whisper before unleashing another cry of life.

I turn
In my fetal position I see a squirrel
I didn't know they could lay that still: lifeless fur sprawled on the wood.
No; he instead is the epitome of life
Nestled in a branch
Sun bathing his tiny back
I see his breathing
Slow, at peace, serene.
I didn't know they could lay that still.
I watch through the branches of dancing green
We lay together,
taking a well-deserved break
For a moment, our life-activity is on hold.
We take You in as we take in the day.
When he sits up, he is still at rest.
When he scratches and bathes, he is still at rest.
Even his walk down the trunk is leisurely.
Lackadaisical squirrel,
I want to live like you.
If I lay on this concrete long enough,
perhaps I'll embrace the world with no fear as well.

Exams are over. Life may resume now that I'm able to pause occasionally.

#nature #squirrel #outdoors #reflection

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