What They Carry
from Crack in Time, poems by Shambhavi Sarasvati at Kindred 108. We're all kindred here.
What They Carry
Sometimes they carry water, small children picking up and putting down heavy plastic jugs over and over again in the heat. Sometimes they carry lentils cooked outdoors, ladled into never-enough bowls. Their pinched faces worry the food will spill before reaching its starved destination. Sometimes they run, the injured draped in their arms, limp limbs dangling and blood anointing the bombed stones. Sometimes they carry the dead, wrapped in blood-stained shrouds and cries of anger and disbelief and sadness. Sometimes they lift shredded body parts into plastic bags, performing this service with a certain quality of dignified reverence and rage. Sometimes they leap from the high rubble onto the sand, carrying their bodies in parkour arcs of defiance and joy. Sometimes they carry their tunes across the ruined cities across the oceans reaching the lands of their assassins and my ears.
from Crack in Time by Shambhavi Sarasvati
Want more? Please join me and the Jaya Kula community for satsang & kirtan every Sunday at 3:30pm Pacific. Come in person to 1215 SE 8th Ave, Portland, OR, or join the Jaya Kula News Facebook group to get the Zoom link for satsang. You can also listen to my podcast—Satsang with Shambhavi—wherever podcasts are found.