By Debasish Mishra

for Joshimath


Some cracks are visible

while some are not


Some crackle at night

eating morsels of sleep

from fear-scrolled eyes


Some stretch to dreams

and impregnate the nights

with impossible nightmares


Some travel to memory

and divide the walls there

partitioning everything


A home with a crack

ceases to be a home


A dream with a crack

is an obsolete egg


A memory with a crack

strips and tears the heart


If closing our eyes

could make the cracks

disappear to oblivion

we would not waste

time but close our eyes

forever, for our sons

and daughters, and their sons

and daughters to see

the place we called home