The Frozen Gruel
written by: Gautham Pradeep
Red stoops to greet,
but stops at the door.
Soft amber clouds,
halting to pour over.
Gradual uproar of the expected lot,
sinking rock in a shallow ravine.
Pitting rain on the inward wave,
transient holes and white spray.
Cocoon is ripe,
the ocean’s symphony jumps in.
Cozy nest of white,
tedious search for blurred ink.
Smell of dawn and dusk,
poured into a stooping branch.
Over the docile river,
perfumed clouds of yellow.
Placing the pebble on top of each other,
crumbling onto my hand.
Long lanes, now,
shorter than fine hair.
Salty marsh hiding the seashell,
washes onto my bleeding feet.
The gruel is turning cold,
continuing to haunt the rest of my day.
Ground under my feet freezes,
lest the awoken fall into an eternal slumber.
Harmony steals the garb of a forlorn dream,
ripping apart the tiny branches in its frame.
Pierces the cocoon built under the rainy sky,
barely floating on the wonder it’s built on.
Barely, the tree holds on to its root,
which has despised the willow since many morns.
The morning tramples over the emotion I’ve seeded,
yet the poignant moment passes into the indifferent next.
- The Frozen Gruel - January 5, 2026
- Cloak of Solitude - May 21, 2025
- Thought - September 2, 2023
