Turbulence, by Rajani Radhakrishnan

Rainstorm Over the Sea, by John Constable (UK). 1824-1828.

Turbulence
​
But how can a storm be elegant, the contortion of 
the visible expanse, incoherent elements clamouring 

for release, morning pretending to be a newly birthed 
night, night lit up like a funereal morning, didn’t we also 

do it awkwardly, dumping darkness into the space 
between us, letting the light grind into the ugliness, we 

could sit naked on the parapet to see if the rain understands 
when the earth says no or trace the immorality of the tempest 

to a karmic reduction, a consequence even after it is removed
from its cause, but you stand there, smiling, the universe 

reduced to a point on your finger, telling me why the 
frenzied sky tries to shred itself so it can become 

water, after the penitent water has patiently gathered 
itself, day after day, to become the sky.

Rajani Radhakrishnan

Rajani Radhakrishnan is from Bangalore, India.   Finding time and renewed enthusiasm for poetry after a long career in Financial Applications, she blogs at thotpurge.wordpress.com. Her poems have recently appeared in The Lake, Quiet Letter, Under the Basho and The Cherita.