Waves

Peach seas murmur with

the colours of the setting

sun. There are no peach

trees here — only

coconut fronds and

mangroves. We have

lapped against shores

of Valencia, dipped in

orange sunsets. We have

touched distant realms,

heard both mermaids

and submarines sing.

Waves only connect.

Bridge continents,

civilisations, eons,

touch the skies

as clouds, travel

through time, air

and oceans. Yet,

they know—

A wave is made of

tiny droplets held

by an unseen force,

can be part of a

tsunami or a placid

swish of a peach sea.

There is no resentment.

They just continue to be.

Mitali Chakravarty edits Borderless Journal & writes for peace and harmony.