Adulting

A poem by Achuthan Panikath

Tue Mar 10 2026

Another step with eyes closed.

To my right, I sense the emptiness:
that unknown indigo of all that could be.
Each sly caress borrows another grain,
leaving wet, unstable ground beneath the mind,
yearning to lose itself in the lawless waves,
afraid to forgo the familiar, piercing sands.

Another step with eyes closed.

Mirthful tunes of carelessness wade in from the left,
fighting the whistling winds of the blue unknown.
Shrill voices reign over safe, counted sands,
bathing in the glow of hope, feet rooted deep, all things known.
Each lash unheard, castles raised:
the inch of tide maroons the man.

A step untaken — eyes still closed.

Purer pulls of hope wipe away those blissful sands.
Fallen; Free; I float unseen.
Wills of nature clash and teach:
the shattered sinks; even the broken swims.
None drowns before the war that shoots the eyes unshut.

No steps to take. I open my eyes.

Afar I see the sands once home.
With breaths too few, I start to swim.