Erika Seshadri

LUNA

I am

betrothed to the tide

through darkness and light

in consequence of

eras, epochs

eons

Over millennia

I’ve watched the argosy

sail forth in brine and solitude

brimming bow to stern

with hiraeth

I’ve witnessed

this century’s secrets

flow like water through gills of

ancient Greenland sharks

to be buried ever

deeper

I move

stony-faced, inured 

as ruthless hundred-year storms

rage in succession—

one right after

another

You’ve prayed

for withering waves

among this contrition for decades

but you won’t find

forgiveness

in the sea

Though its rising

is of no concern to me, 

I must say, it looks like you could be in trouble now

∘˚˳°∘˚˳°

OCEANIC ABODE

What shall become of liquid depths,

the abode of our ancestors

where life’s experiments began,

testing gills, spouts, and fins

before we made the crawl to land

Despite the memory of waves within our cells

and the allure of salty essence on our skin,

we suffocate our kin with slick black death

from the bowels of our mother

With a pallor so evident

it can be seen from space

perhaps it’s time to abandon rigs,

equip our boats with white flags

and make peace

If not?

Silent statues of glistening ice,

islands of solitude buoyant in brine

loyal to cold—ancient, frozen, languid

will transform 

The past will crumble, no future remains

a liquid world, restless

Awaits