Aware
I carve words in the sand
I know the tide will rise
and wash them away
but I write them
until my hands are gritty
and the color of sand
I speak to the waves
I know they don’t hear
but I let the words roll out
of my mouth anyway
until they sound
like the waves
I listen to the wind
even when it is still
I can hear silence in the quiet
it utters words I wouldn’t
otherwise hear—they come
from within
© Neetu Malik
First published in TAT Poetry, December 2016
-
she reaches out
touches fog
she had hoped
for the sun -
Walk me through
your caveshow me the petroglyphs
the stories
you have laboriously pecked on the walls
with your hammer stone,
carved in the light of a lantern
where shadows cast gloom. -
I am but dust
a grain of sand
blowing whichever way
the wind blows
in the universe -
You were the guest at my table picking on the corners of the table cloth, fingers nervously folding and unfolding mutilated pride.
-
Neetu Malik’s poetry is an expression of life’s rhythms and the beat of the human spirit. She draws upon diverse multicultural experiences and observations across three continents in which she has lived.
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A quiet, consistent–element by element–fusion of the persona’s senses and the natural forces of which she is a part. All that is, is One. A recognition that we need poets to constantly put before us. These few lines in perfect balance, show The Way. Anyone can say, “we should pay attention to the natural world”. . .and we won’t. A poet of Neetu’s power can impel us into images of such depth and clarity. . . we just might.
Thank you, Clark.
Thank you to the many folks who share my poems with others. It is appreciated.