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Between Sisters
Ushas
Nritti
My sister Nritti and I, Ushas,
we
That’s my sister Ushas for you,
weave darkness and light. She’s
The
luminous and confused, always
Night who comforts
through
doubting her existence though she’s
darkness, lifting it, letting it
run
first-born, The disturbing Dawn.
through her fingers and I’m
The
Believe me --- if you believe The
Dawn, smoothing
brightness
Big Bang Theory.
across the bed of the sky, arching to
tuck it into the horizon,
awakening
She came from nothing because
life to life. She’s said to turn
reality
action precedes thought. Life
into dreams
and nightmares.
I
appeared, then its consequences
reverse her flow, I demand the
other
unfolded. Think back on your own
terror, action. Between the two of
us
life, our supposed choices and
goddesses there’s not
much
to
you’ll agree. One acts, and can’t
choose.
fathom the fallout anymore than
count snowflakes falling from a
Mythologies make out that chaos
some
dark sky. That’s the way it is with
how is translucent, a
lambent
life. Ushas and I, we’ve argued
litchi, its stone the sky. That’s
rubbish.
about who came first since
But my sister and I, we’ve lived in
myth, the
beginning of Time. I’ve even
we know each patch of
earth
told her: listen, it makes for
produces
slight variations.
Someone
better metaphysics if you
loses wings
here, someone
else
initially emerged. Come on,
grows a horn there,
some
make people happy! But no.
denizen of the sky dives
underwater and
makes
She’ll toss her spangling mane
her abode
in a cave of crystal
lights.
of feathers, rear and blur into the
That’s the way
it goes. That’s
the
distance as a fan of undulating
it went. It’s different now,
the
world’s
radiance. And I, Nritti, will
gone global and my sister and
I
be left to seep space with my
co-exist,
sharing domains..
You’ll
soft spread, trawl the underbelly
probably read
this as a
loss
of the cosmos for falling stars
of identity and power
but and
hush their hiss in my folds...
for someone who
has lived as long
as I reach
everywhere; that’s a
I have, power is no longer
an tuck of
me you sense between
interesting
phenomenon.
the fingers of your thought.
Identity is
another matter.
But she’s got
this right:
Identity and power are oppositional
forces.
There’s no relation between
More that my sister and I
ever
power and identity. That’s
were, even when we
were first
conceived.
mythology. Take my example:
Nritti is first-born. She,
the black
swan for
eons I thought I was my
emerged from the
dark
effect, The Night, comforting
waters of creation,
its
soldiers after battle and lovers
breath and
being;
torn apart by reason, helping
she ruffled her
feathers
thieves, terrorists and sewer rats
so that space
arose
with my swell of darkness. But I
and from the
collision
was wrong. I lie beneath my
of molecules that
fell
darkness, painting; I am the stir
from her
wings
of silence, that’s my identity. As
light was born
and
for Ushas, why, heaps of men
I, her
twin, came
into
were sacrificed to her earlier on;
being. Ushas, the
white swan,
she was worshipped as a man-
swimming in
radiance.
eating goddess. Well…
maybe
Fluffing my feathers, she
crunched a couple of hundreds
birthing universes but
she prefers dew, and look at her
from disquiet.
Stating separation. now, her
power done in by halogen
Identity.
lighting but her identity brighter
than ever. She’s all metaphor.
I ask: who
remembers
the
moment of birth?
Bet
The dark holds no terrors, it’s
you don’t, even
if
said and I should know but
you’ve put
yourself
through
Time’s darkness is other than
expensive hypnotic
pre-life
trances.
than mine for Time has no
No one remembers
the sister,
no winged bird that frees
birth of
her or
his
satellites of light from feathers
identity. For identity is
always
free, as
she flies…. Time, that’s
even as it
evolves. Confuse
it the
tough one. One day we
with power and you have
what you have: too will
stop, my sister and
wars, all this blood and
pain-letting.
Floods I.
the universe like
a womb bursting,
whoosh…
Ushas hurts easily. Which
is why I’m inviting her to
Nritti, my sister calls.
She’s
hungry
snack on a few newborn
and wants to nibble on a few
emerging
nebula, hers or mine
galaxies and she’s not sure if
it’s part of
her
doesn’t matter, and so
or me. That’s power-sharing
for you.
That’s
soak my black solace
got nothing
to do with identity.
Nritti,
through her bright
I’m coming
…
tenderness. Ushas…
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