Member-only story
The Cleansing Ritual With a Prayer
A freeverse poem
I’m rinsing out my soul in a joyous ceremony.
No longer I’ll be a cremation ground for all my stillborn selves.
I’m exorcising them with my newfound serenity.
Let them soar into the breeze gilded with usurped dreams of beings like me.
Let them turn into incense.
Let the fragrance remind me that I tried, though my heart always needed mending.
Let the lush, diaphanous clouds become quaint and cosy shelters.
Let a nefelibata do all the nurturing.
One day, there’d be generous rainfall.
There’d be saplings uncoiling from every crevice.
My stillborn selves would nourish this earth.
And I’d be catching the melodies dripping from each moment, savouring my cleansed soul.
I’d be a blood-red field of fresh journeys.
©Kavya Janani. U
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