Idō _ Movement
artwork by Athiba Balasubramanian
Striving for balance in these uncertain times with a 3rd invisible element that seems to be teaching us a lesson on priorities, life, and nature.
An inclusive independent journal with a focus on literature & art
The 5th of August
poem by Naveen Kishore
Her eyes like caves in which the wounded animal had dragged itself to die by the side of the poisoned lake
Grieving angels shrouded in shadows once hand stitched by the sun were no match for the wise woman’s melancholy
Rose bushes pierced by thorns they had sired lay bleeding in the crimson moonlight even as the snow continued to fall
A solitary womb stood begging at the cross-roads braving the indifference of passers-by who walked past counting their beads in braille
The one-legged violinist strung his bow and struck a tune that no one stopped to listen or appreciate let alone pay for
She shook me awake wanting to know why I wept in my sleep
To dwell.
To linger upon.
A word.
A thing.
A thing of beauty.
Not overt.
Or noticeable.
Just. Beauty.
The kind that accompanies silence.
Silence that partners solitude.
Not the lonely kind.
The kind that is sought.
And being sought is hard to find.
Or pin down.
The kind that is tactile.
As in palpable.
Akin to ‘feeling’.
That which has no sound.
And.
Is.
Therefore.
Often deafening in its desire to envelop.
Surround.
Sound born of lack.
Lack of the audible.
Untitled
poem by Naveen Kishore
Naveen Kishore is a theatre lighting designer, photographer, and the publisher at Seagull Books.