Nathan Omprasadham

I stepped carefully over a trail of ants, softly
so as to not disturb their labor, feeling the
red dust of unpaved paths kick up nonetheless

The shadows sway lazily under thick sunlight,
air still clinging to yesterday’s rain as
reflections glint off ponds dug for those
who saw sanctified, cyclical truth in moonstones

I sing praises in the cool dry air of
rented hotel halls and think of
coarse hands laid on broken hearts
under thick sun, and red dust

And think perhaps
I too am dark, but lovely,
like the tents of Kedar,
like the curtains of Solomon
like the one who saw truth in moonstones

Nathan Omprasadham is a junior from Sri Lanka studying English and Philosophy (in that order). He likes cooking more than he likes eating, and reading more than writing.