Poem: “Puja Offerings”

One last poem before I go.  (See the next post down for a more prose-y farewell.)

Puja Offerings

Three coconuts I break
kneeling before the puja fire

The first cracks easily
but has no water
The white flesh inside
is sour, slimy, and mushy:

This is my past life
my existence up until now

I throw it into the fire
watch as thick smoke
billows up and away

The second coconut is harder
and splashes wet all over
creating a mess
but its interior is hale
white and firm

This is the time of transition
the chaos of before
becoming after

I throw the pieces into the fire
and a breeze shoves fumes
into my face, making my eyes
run with tears

The third coconut resists breaking
and I must beat it upon the rock
until shock tingles up my arm
Eventually I batter into it
spilling clear fluids into the puja flames

I paint this one with four dots
khumkhum
on each half of the broken shell
feeling the smooth fibers
under fingertips
then find another place
to rest the shells among the coals

This last offering
is my future life
and I have no idea
how it will turn out
save that the portents
are very good indeed

About Becca

Owner and proprietor of this here establishment
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