The Woman and The Sea.

She will not be disturbed

as she drinks in the sea.

As she drinks in the whole sea.

Her feet planted firmly in the melting sand.

Burkha lifted modestly just above the drunken wavelets.

She looks towards the sea.

A dark silhouette covered in faith’s dark silence.

She is so still you would think she is carved out of granite.

Minutes pass.

Stretches unbearably to quarter of an hour.

She does not move, transfixed by the sea.

We do not move, transfixed by this woman transfixed by the sea.

But when we steal our phone camera out,

She moves.

Forlorn the waves look at us,

accusingly.

 

  

2

{There are questions that arrive after we’ve sorted through the cultural stuff. After we go through the mind’s refreshment as we land-locked creatures drink in a borrowed sea.}

Does The Sea Know Her?

The Sea Knows her.

Does The Sea Await Her?

No, The Sea Does Not Await Her.

Will The Sea Miss Her When She Can No Longer Arrive?

No, The Sea Will Come Inland For Her When She Passes Away.

Tarun & Celia Cherian