A beautifully constructed poem by Anjali about her visit to Sri Lanka earlier this year (2015).

Sri Lanka, shivering the sun right through me,
taking my envy and wrapping it
in palm trees.
Your rugged handsome soil
is the heartbeat of this land,
birthing canopies of lush
emerald trees,
that glint so freely,
they heat up the night.
I imagine they sing songs,
when the city melts to sleep,
they’re freedom fighters,
protecting the tea,
the smoke, the peaks,
the shores, the surfs,
the coconuts, the cinammon,
the rainfall, the elephants.

The sun was born to settle here,
to light papaya tones
on glistening brown skin,
to teach us that the mountains
whisper secrets that we don’t hear
Bumpy, winding roads
throw flora and fauna,
in our footpaths,
for us to dance on,
for us to sway on
in the succulent heat.

Eyes and leaves
caress each other
even when we’re long gone.
Rainfall rides
a rhythm of love,
and water keeps on tumbling,
rocking laughter back and forth,
Through dry dust and mosquito breath,
we inhale deeply.
With our palms open tonight
and the sand filling our toes,
we celebrate:
the precious,
the warmth of us.
Simplifying stars
as midnight’s jewellery,
we’re royal tonight,
we hold hands and
and our skin feels gold.
Question marks float,
in pitch black beach.
Does this island hold,
a magical underground
that we can call our own.
A seed that we can plant
deep inside our stomach,
to take with us back home.

Poem by Anj 

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