a nocturnal refuge

as the night furrows the deep-entrenched skepticism
i carry within and out, like an extra piece of clothing
(on my nudity that does not embarrass me anymore),

i try to anchor myself to the moon — my mother, my
sister, my friend in insanity, my trusted comrade of
a bloodless birthright (rite)—& play with the strings

of a star-invisible sky, little-by-little, a tune attunes
itself to my grief, my being heavier as if the mass of
a black sun, and i put my mind to lines and words,

the gaps between my bones and silent sobs, rising in
the thought of my own betrayed blessings, healing
there on for an elemental recovery, imbued in an orb-

like feature, surrounding me, and i wait for things to
turn themselves right, to fulfill another night its end
of destiny, the despondency, the relief, the lonesome

levity, the tree-memory, the earth-bound-eventuality.

© Anmol Arora 2018

Image source (Night city by Svetlana Tikhonova)
For With Real Toads’ The Places That Heal Us — it is not a place but a moment, a juncture where time meets the customary requirement/need — a display of emotion for healing, for keeping on

Also to be linked with the Poetry Pantry at PU


20 thoughts on “a nocturnal refuge

  1. sanaarizvi says:

    Sigh.. the night with its comforting solitude 🙂 There is something about it that draws the soul into its refuge. Hours after the world is deep in slumber (us poets) often resort to writing and sometimes music to calm the storm stirring inside. I could feel every word and line-break and held my breath at “as if the mass of a black sun, and i put my mind to lines and words.” A beautifully evocative write, Anmol! ❤️


  2. Anmol, I was rather enraptured with this poem, and your swirl of amazing words and images. I especially love “play with the strings of a star-invisible sky”. Wow. And then the “tree memory, the earth-bound eventuality.” A rather brilliant write.


  3. I was struck with the line about being anchored to the moon. The moon does create balance and perhaps it is that balance that ultimately grounds one to the earth.

    I have really been enjoying your poetry, it’s fresh with an edge.


  4. Love it! Brilliant lines in this.

    ‘i try to anchor myself to the moon’

    wafted from the screen and – having floated across the room – it has pinned itself to the window looking upwards ~ smiles ~


  5. Many times the moon has been my comforter, too. That and the act of writing poetry. Gorgeous, gorgeous poem (if sad). Though a moment in time, it feels like a place too; or I get a sense of the place you were when this moment happened.


  6. I’ll take the moon okay, Anmol, but I will never again trust the sun and the stars. I loved your ending, a forced levity. Might as well, things won’t heal. Scab over, perhaps. I liked this read, thank you.


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