‘33AU inbound’
11 AU, inbound
An entry to this world
Like any other
But singularly mine
This feeling—“I”
The knowing— “I Am”
Understanding
still forming.
The end of the day
Sun sets
And Rises in the morning
as a comet flies between
A seed is cast
Eager to begin
Are conditions inhospitable
Or the seed not of this ground?
6 AU, inbound
Small, sensitive
Shy and precious
Recognising light faster,
Understanding it slower
Emergent, bright
Stifled and struggled
A little older
Are a lot taller
Guardians out of phase,
a saw-tooth order
Tough roots flourish
Tender roots yearn
Such tools abound,
Conditions rich
But can one learn
and not grow?
Nearest Passage
I remember the smell of the air, sweet and salty
The day had been warm, and the soft sand still carried that warmth beneath my feet.
A relative, older, sets up a firework in a glass bottle and lights it,
I’ve never experienced such colour and sound.
My father kneels down beside me and points up to a red dot in the sky,
As the light traces slowly he tells me,
This will only happen once in a lifetime.
The clear summer night air is generous,
friends and relatives laugh and cackle inside it.
My older sister is around but I don’t see her.
I wonder, when my father says this will only happen once in a lifetime,
Whose lifetime is he talking about?
14 AU, receding
Many days joyful,
water plenty
A young seed’s wish,
To grow, reach out
The archetype of Mercy
The strength to help
Sending root
To fit the form
Not power over, but
Power within
Nights mostly content—until
anger replaces laughter
Guardians wrangle for light,
Deprive one another
They forget to drink
As the seedlings watch
19 AU, outbound
Ground rich,
Little wealth
Stems poise
And copy one another
Roots honest
Beneath the ground, dismay
Water is given
and taken away
Be all you can,
The Sun speaks
While below,
roots ask
When does the water
match the light?
Or must the ground
always ask more than the sky?
24 AU, outbound
The smell of rain hangs in the air,
Another failed test.
Home in the midst of
breaking for years,
I hold my breath and go to my imagination,
stifled by the immanence
of a mistake
which is not allowed.
How does one advance
if not allowed to notice mistake?
I’d once seen a comet
which seemed to say
Anything is possible.
And perhaps the truth is closer to
Everything is possible.
I cry most days. I’m afraid,
and those I tell do not see.
I drag my feet along wet ground,
late for the bus.
29 AU, deep outbound
Roots find no depth, wrangled
by competitive others
Shared ground
Not common ground
Still, roots travel
Shallow but sure
Water often plenty
But sparsely offered
Sky faithful,
offers clouds
Above injurious ground,
Faithless, firm
Waiting to give way,
Such trust.
35AU near aphelion
I’d been with her for 6 years,
But now suddenly someone else.
Sold the ‘perfect’ relationship.
The sun shines, but has no warmth today
It’d take time for me to ask the question—
how was I able to be so mistaken?
The woman of 6 years, now engaged to someone else,
I wanted so much to yell for her return,
But to interfere with her happiness
Would be a bigger mistake than any I’d already made.
There is something dire about the situation,
Like a cobra mistaken for a strand of long grass,
I’d only see right at the aphelion—
where there was no more room to mistake
A million things crash down in the aftermath.
What I had known no longer solid
And upon this shaky ground I would grieve,
For I never truly had all that I’ve lost.
The sun shines
And yet my skin immune
to its nourishment.
How did I end up
so far away from Home?
35AU turning
A new strategy,
Roots send
along the surface
Scalding sun,
away from competition
But oh so exposed,
They travel
Immense thirst
Only a ways
May they go
like this
Mature enough to know
this soil,
Rich with corruption
The tragedy of competition,
no winners
Better to thirst and risk
Than drink and drown
Roots travel
35AU deep inbound
Time has passed, alone.
Withering daily,
Malnourished and distant
From others,
From myself.
Summer scorches,
Winter freezes
Extremes so present,
Amid an increasingly numb body
I look outside,
Lawn overgrown, plants thirsty
Requiring water
I cannot give
Succumbing to gravity,
Entropy takes
From every attempt
to recover.
I remember the light,
fond familiarity
I need it to survive
And yet its memory
is my strongest pain
I don’t give up,
Yet I give in.
33AU inbound
Stems withered,
Roots died.
What survived?
A storm,
May have once destroyed
Removes impenetrable ground,
saturates surface.
Much succumbed
Beneath scorching Sun.
That which survived
may travel further.
Light and water
speak together,
Roots travel,
deep now
Roots travel
