Saturn: The Litany of Mercy

i. The season of winter as it creeps up the palm of your hand, the season of birds as they fly into the moonlight, the glowing silver beneath your feet as the ice tendrils around your grassroot veins. You reach out to the stars and the ground pulls you into its core.

ii. Did you know that starlings can migrate in flocks of hundreds and thousands? Did you know they’re called constellations?  Did you know they know they circle around Saturn, flushed and ethereal, as they stare down at you for eternity?

iii. You close your eyes and your secrets rise in you and you can’t stop till you spill them all into the nebulous terrain. Your hubris tells you, “you have time.” To think you believe that as your body aches—as the fog fills up your bones and breaks them open. This is not the place for your arrogance. This is not the time for your vanity.

iv. Do you remember when you were a kid racing down the city streets as the stars looked over you? Do you remember how you glowed bright and pink under the street lights and how you laughed and laughed and thought you’d never feel this happy again?

v. The dust-stained gas consumes you and you are finally at peace. 

Written by Tanya Jain for MTTN 
Edited by Rithik Talwar for MTTN
Featured image by Arvin Das for MTTN