Can you turn just once,
And say it again
In that calm soothing voice you know
that it will be okay
that it is okay
That you know it and so i should too
for i do not, and if you do
I think I too will know
that it will be okay.

Because I know,
but do not know
how to know it all on my own
Can it even be,
that it is
because I say so
How can it be
Just because I say it is
And will be – How can I know

If you do not chime in with my fears
If you do not sing lullabies to the deep
Then it is only me alone
with my dark abyss
Flying about in abandon
The echo chamber
Does not tell you which straws to grasp
It needs another voice
But do you even know what is a straw, and what string?

Here is the thing
I know what I know – and know it alone
To okay and back and then along
I know what to string, and when to swing
And when the straw can be made into hay
Driftwood that I must cling too in floodwaters deep
Even myself when all else is in steady creep
When all else fails and it is not okay
I am the voice that can tell myself – It’s okay

(c) Meeta Senguptaq


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