Maps
My Entry for Be Open Writing Contest #1 — Poetry (New Year vibes)
I close my window,
and the world I have never seen
turns into a map;
It fascinates me
how lands, rivers, mountains and deserts
have spread their wings
to whims of nature.
The map is a time machine,
always narrates to me
how we drew erratic boundaries
across lands; and
gifted ourselves
a history that is half-baked at best,
Often with the winners’ narrative
to ascertain morality
to quintessential deception.
The map unveils chapters
of sons and daughters of the land
who watered the soil with their blood,
painted their crops golden,
danced seductively,
let children rejoice under the sky;
breathed their last, facing a noose,
succumbing to famine,
daring a bayonet or worse.
Their tiny footprints only got smaller with time.
The map questions
if we have drawn enough blood,
blood that could be one in spirit
and I know it is time
to fold it neatly and put it back
on the bookshelf.
I would like to nominate Connie Song Sanjukt Saha Paul Corbeil Kelsey Greene Kiana Takeshita
