The sharp edge
of my blue passport
rips the yellow envelope,
nudges my hand.
Dust still sits
in its creases.
It remembers the old country,
knows its days
are numbered,
and like a cat in a cage,
all eyes,
lets itself be taken
to undisclosed destinations.
The idea of migration and the internal/external struggle that a migrant undergoes has been looked at through various lens and forms of writing. Migration can be a forced one or can be construed as a voluntary one forced by economic circumstances or for seeking a better quality of life. Either way the shift is not just in terms of geographical locations but also in the way one has come to perceive the world and one’s surroundings.
…Then a dam of white
light broke, the wall of water
shattering its cargo, and me
inside it like a seed
giving itself up to water
and to wind.