imag0170_1

Thud. They laid the first plank.
They knew they had to be patient
After all, theirs was a thorough plan.

Two girls they were.
Two islands they belonged to.
Two different islands connected by a string of land.
A string of land frayed in the middle,
so a little leap was what got one into the other’s place.

But two different islands they belonged to.
One where the sun would rise
And the other which better bade it goodbye.
One which soaked its hands every day
to reap from fields of water on all sides,
And the other which picked up trinkets washed to its feet
to make wondrous treasures acclaimed far and wide.

Thunk. Thunk. They nailed another plank to the side.
A boat should be sturdy and strong at heart
if it was meant to ferry two souls through nature’s treacherous tides.

Droplets of sweat dripped into the sands
as the Sun glared at them hovering in the center of the sky.
And even though their villages would not see eye to eye,
the two girls looked at each other and shared a smile.

Kreesh. Another plank cried as they trimmed it the right size.
The daughter of the fishermen holding it tight,
as the progeny from the artists’ side
sawed at the doors to their future dreams and life.

For the first, while her people saw an expanse of nature to monetize,
She saw a sphere, a shell, engulfing her from all sides,
Gravity that pulled her to her house with all worldly strength
everytime she’d try to jump to the other side – the haven her heart desired.
And so she looked at her friend tying their makeshift sail to a pole,
weaving plans of flying to faraway lands in each knot,
knowing all too well that she held in her hands every dream she sought.

For the second, her hands were steady, as much as her mind was in a frenzy
Painting wild pictures of strange lands on the face of the sail in her hands.
She looked up into eyes that reflected her own thoughts,
for travelling to ever newer places to sell their store
was a work she could have sooner made her ideal world
than running between her house and the shore to collect worthless stones.

Two different girls. Each with the other’s wish,
they watched each other throw it away
with every plank laid as the boat was made.

They did not care for tomorrow but for days still farther
They did not know the sea as they knew their promising vessel.
They did not grasp anything of the world except what they wanted of it.
And so they dragged their cradle of dreams into the starving sea
the wanderer mooring it while the artist took a leap.
She stretched out her hand offering freedom to her human anchor,
and in taking it, she in turn, set them both free.

 

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