by Yoshita Batish
Come embrace me in this blackhole.
Hold my hand, my skeptical frame.
My chariot swerves dangerously,
Teach me to control, teach me how to aim.
O wizened alchemist with a prickly beard,
There is a universe in your eyes.
So kiss my forehead, grant me this boon,
That I may glow bright and see past the lies.
My adulterated brother with tousled hair,
My cruel mentor, giver of anecdotes.
Blind me to easy elixirs,
To you I credit my principles, my life’s quotes.
Shower upon me blows of thunder,
Hit me with agonizing pain.
For in the relentless downpours,
Did the hill become the mountain.