to find the foam, the form of an oceanic
forgiveness, wrestling between jaws, the

pause lingering in vacant eyes, the shark
that has yet to see itself a shark. do we wait

for the carving of flesh, pound by pound,
the tightened axle of disparate power, or

do we awake by daylight, ready for the pit
of all that is not right? to know this flesh

withers like grass, this glory falters like falling
flowers, is to turn away. to dream of fields, the

multitudes uncluttered, is to see their colours
gleam by the horizon. to see the sky and

remember this smallness, is to see the recollection
into one. to surface from depth crying to

depth, not the easy break of shallow ether,
is to bear the mystery entwined – soul to

soul, soul to land – to surface again into the
wonder of presence, to dream of the place

where air and water kiss.

Jonathan Chan is a writer and editor. Born in New York to a Malaysian father and South Korean mother, he was raised in Singapore and educated at Cambridge and Yale. This poem can also be found in the collection going home, Landmark Books (2022).

This article first appeared in Geez magazine Issue 66, Fall 2022, Global Resistance and Solidarity.