1.Earth
Plant yourself, insignificant seed,
on terrifying new expanses.
Water yourself with the sweat of the earth.
Take.
Return.
Scatter your guilt and regret away,
they’ll only hinder your growth,
planting themselves within you so deep that when extracted,
you’ll find
a mess of tearing veins.
Cast toxicity away,
breathe.
Take root, firmly.
Assert yourself.
Nobody ought to take your space away from you, love.
Bloom.
2. Water.
Flow,
mercy in your movements,
for,
you’re life itself.
Remember
to be kind,
your slightest waves
are quakes
in the structures of the lost.
Erase
carefully,
compassionately.
Erase
the blood
on the weeping earth.
Don’t erase
the names of lovers,
little heartbeats strung together
by hope and promise,
pulses hoping for a shared future,dancing strings of yarn
that might never
breathe together
as fabric.
Remember to rejoice,
celebrate yourself,
dance.
3. Air.
Be.
Just be.
It’s okay to rest,
it’s okay to remain.
You don’t have to dance,
jump,
weave indecipherable patterns.
The absence of movement
isn’t the absence of life itself.
Besides,
infusing yourself
is meditation too.
4. Sky.
Gaze
upon those in need of benevolence.
Gaze
kindly, lightly.
Remember
to be lighter,
Atlas has fears running
through his veins too.
Remember,
the earth looks up to you.
Waiting.
Pining.
Wanting.
Remember to
be kind,
your tears seep into her
overflowing bruises too.
Remember,
that she wouldn’t want it any other way.
5. Fire.
Warm yourself,
breathe hope into your embers.
Listen to your cackles,
remember they aren’t your identity.
Identify
the rage in your pulse.
Determine good from bad,
remember that they co-exist now,
dream of a world
with the exclusive existence of good.
Remember to not fear grey,
color yourself red.
Sharp, fluid,glowing.
Angry, raging,alive.
Align
yourself with the universe.
Snuggle against those
with damp smiles,
spread across their features,
their warmth will nestle with you too.
Rage,
let your anger
spread through you,
exorcising your demons.
The bruises will fade away,
your doodles will spread themselves on your skin,
you will find that the webs you built to hide yourself away
can sustain you too.
By Shreenidhi Rajagopalan
About Shreenidhi:
Shreenidhi is a 16 year old poet and feminist. Her work has been published in the editorial of The Hindu,and is going to be, in an anthology about conflict in India,and several literary magazines. She edits her school magazine.
Artwork by Chi Leong
