Indira’s Jeweled Net
Image by Gerd Altmann
The sky at night
with its blanket of stars
whispers it unceasingly:
There is no unbelonging.
In a field of green that’s vast,
I am a single blade of grass
imagining too often
that I am all alone.
But even as we hide in homes,
there is no unbelonging.
We can know with our hearts
that separation is a ruse
Like rocks in a tumbler,
we can’t turn smooth as jewels
without one another.
Though the rasping hurts,
We burnish and burnish until
we see the whole and each of us, reflected
in every knot of the jeweled net.
There is no unbelonging.
©Susa Silvermarie 2025
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