One must imagine, the Kayal that flows to the sea,
to be pristine, to be untouched.
Allowed to be.
but we wade, you wade,
not you, you will hear.
The sounds of feet,
sinking, caressing,
mud and glass
mud and glass,
the lurches of a crowded train,
the tardy metal behemoth
groaning under its legacy’s weight.
But under the bridge that holds the train,
lies the water, ebbing with tears,
flooding with fears,
rising with groans, falling with sores
she has grown,
never grown, left alone
to froth, to foam, to seethe and to churn.
She carved into the land with her current,
and now she gnaws at the rest
since she knows she’s worth more.
She has held your dreams,
she has held your beliefs,
she has held onto your lies
and she will no longer be
the cradle
for the life you keep,
the lives you reap,
the secrets you tell,
the hurt you sow,
She will course through the land
with dreams of her own,
with stories she has written
with love that is hers and hers alone.
And she will be
the Kayal she wants to be
Omar Shaji is a second-year undergraduate English major with a concentration in Creative Writing. He hails from India and is an international student who spent his childhood swimming, running and lighting things on fire. He is entranced by the writing of Ruskin Bond and is currently trying to grapple with the fact that his dislike for otters is not shared by many. Omar Shaji acknowledges that Carleton University rests on the unceded territory of the Anishinaabe – Algonquin Nation. He has published a poem in Sumac before and is grateful for being given the opportunity to submit a piece this year.
