Ocean
Floating,
lapping waves carry me—
Inside and out
this ocean surrounds
supports
This that isn’t an it
has substance
I can’t touch it
has depth
but can’t be measured
Sensing the tether
seeing the thin, gold cord
there’s a tug
the touch, mere feather
keepsake of home
That gold cord is a beautiful thing, Didi. It keeps the feet steady even when the current pulls hard.
— Choti Bhai