Volume Three, Issue 4

SaraSwoti (Sara) Lamichhane

Dragged to the Grave

Horses old, black and brown
Endure days’ flown away
in the cramped trailers
dosed in delirium.

Before the last breath of resistance
of death and destruction
do you dream once more?

of galloping your tail
around green meadows at Blue Grass?
Or, you dream of a graceful human hug?
do you scream once more?

during the starvation of water and food?
Or, do you scream once more? a flashback of painful whipping?
and the chase you ran?

of stress and pressure
a ran of lucrative gambling of ego and fame?
do you mesmerize the last time?
the Blanket of Rose trophied to you?
gorgeous women in festive hats
celebrities interviewed
cameras staring at you?

Bliss of ignorance or forgiveness
whatever you call it,
the deep silence in your eyes

drugged injuries
wounded skeletons

drag your ignorance little longer
for the gun shoots

They’ll render your consciousness
thrash your throat
hang your feet to bleed
your skin still to trade.

Mountain Calls

I’m fetching today
another call from the mountain


Mountain Calls

The sage who lived inside me ( she no longer lives in me),
abandoned me --
Long ago-
during a mountain trip

Last sight I remember
I saw her outside -
Just outside the Maligne Lake

Where -
She and I were gazing-
at some deer
and that little fawn

In that zero moment
My eyes got lost into hers
I was the fawn
The fawn was myself

Right then, in the flock
I saw my sage running away-
into the woods
after the deer

Loneliness filled my shadow-

-ever since-
It creeps me everywhere.

In the mountain
is my hermitage
mountains talk to me
In their widespread arms
they cradle me
And I hear my sage
whistling lullabies

And, I live
for another mountain call.

SaraSwoti (Sara) Lamichhane: "Being raised in a small town, I spent more time in nature than with friends. As early as 8, I explored a deep connection with nature. I truly experienced the cradles and healing of mother earth. The birds, animals, mountains, hills and the river surrounded me as an expansion of a bigger home. Now, every morning brings to me a blessing of grace and gratitude for being alive.Each poetic gathering is a celebration where I get to greet their inner sage residing in them. I serve as a board member with Parkland Poets and my poems have appeared around Canada, India, USA and Nepal."

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