how many storms it took
to fill
this lake of winter,
a bird slow in flight
against the wind—
how many times
has she tried to cross
the orange light on the horizon,
what message will she leave?
my heart should be free by now;
still it sinks in water,
staring at the ceiling,
thinking of that lonely bird
pushing the world’s breath aside.
Vaishali Paliwal
November 28, 2025
Moonwater 