When is Now?
by Nanditha Ram Satagopan
i watched the Avicennia seed make its way
through the whirling black waters.
floating away from her mother—
who stood alone, roots reaching for the sky
like palms turned upward in silent prayer to her loved ones.
a flood of memories washed over me—
capsized boats and scattered nets.
wading through were people of no belonging.
i witnessed the Ocean mercilessly engulf thatched abodes.
my tears, the rain
i stood helpless, and drowning, in nostalgia.
when will it dawn upon us
that time is finite?
