Poetry
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Poetry is a lifeline and has been a way back and through for me.
Here is a sampling of poems to inspire, enliven, and nourish.
They are part of a larger collection that will be published in an upcoming volume called The Wish to be Ordinary. Sign up here to be notified when it is available for purchase.​
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Wishes of my body
My body is not for looking at,
it is for relishing, tasting, devouring,
like a freshly made soup of homegrown love,
my body is not for pushing over,
it is for resting into, nestling, cuddling with,
an arm, a leg, a whole torso, slung across the silk curves of my presence,
my body is not for sizing up,
it is for splaying out across the hills as summer reaches its zenith
down under,
a sovereign lullaby
holding me
between earth and sky,
my body is not for hushing up and pushing under,
it is for singing out of tune and firecracking under the moon,
a rumble of thunder awakening the core,
my body is not for passing over,
it is for venerating and celebrating, every fold and dimple, wrinkle and whisker,
a silent prayer to be known and at home;
my body is a wish for how I long to live,
no need to reach far,
this body is all.​​​
Rose of time
When the small insides
of everyday
rest
upon
the gentle waves
of forgetting
what the world needs from me,
I learn to live
the time
of me:
a blossom in being,
a season out of mind.​​​​​
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Sunning
When I release my grip
on mind
a whole new sun
shines upon
the way
and I forget
why I had been
taking cover
in the shade
where I could not
even see
the sky.
Perception
Keep flowering into this moment,
shining light into the things
that already seem to be in place
and wonder,
“What if they weren’t?”
What if, like the orbiting
planets,
they could change positions
and just like that—
change atmospheres?
What if life
wasn’t meant to be one way
or another
at all?
What if
we dawned from the stars
of centuries past
so that we, too,
could one day
become the dust
that spawns
a new possibility?
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The ordinary comes in a multitude
of shades,
ever multiplying
its faces
in the mirror
of our inquisitive creativity.
The way of light
is not foretold,
it is the stream of brilliance
marking the shadowed sky.​
All poems: Copyright © 2026 Shruti Desai. All Rights Reserved.​​