The Sea

by. Sheen Kaaf Nizam


yet composed?

resplendent -

against the gloom!?

striding in diverse directions,

towards yourself -

exultant, pirouetting, agile

yet quiescent!?

in battle

against yourself

a maelstrom, and 

a primeval song.

O sea -

who is it that you call,

as you surge towards the shores, incessantly

is it one of your own -

that you long for, lovelorn

or is it someone, who


the oyster womb was flung

into the world beyond the shores

and - calls now, for you alone!

is it a dream that you have lost

or someone who fell from your eyes

that you now surge ashore to reclaim

can't you even recall?

you remember that you forget -

but what is it that you forget

  you cannot tell

you do remember

that you are the sea, though?


if you remember -

that you are the sea


to recall or to forget

is for you but the whim of a wave!

you may even forget that you are the sea -

for you have the ascendancy to forget!

who do you call o sea

as you surge ashore?

Why? o sea

this adversity

and strife

upon your own life

since centuries?

what are the furies

that enclose you thus in this spire

of reel and recoil,

whorl upon whorl

why do you raise your arms

up to the night

to be tousled and tangled?

is it an original sin of your own

or is the recollection of

the primal one still so strong -

that it wrenches you every moment still?

whose separation wrings you thus,

to torment your own being?

do you really think

that the other half of your being

is at peace without you?

it is only likely that

like you

this other too

is ripped asunder


in its every drop

every spec

flung across every image

whose tattered memory

rips him too

as it fragments you

not likely, but not unlikely either

are you not

his other half

even as he is yours

without you

where would he be complete either?

then, this wrench that you suffer

in the name of the primal fall

as the original sin

perhaps he too

yearns for you

then is it not only possible

that you who are two names, two beings now

who were one whole yesterday

and have lost all puissance

have wept

have slept

why then o sea, this adversity

in this ferreted

ruck and reel

of the maelstrom

suffering this wringing

wrench upon wrench?!