Back to Issue Three.

In the Sand



That year we took the November like the braids 
of a woman, went to the sea with nets. How 
we reminded our ourselves of the honorable 
exception: Today. 
Today we would catch a small fish. 

We almost never did. One day we returned 
and found the thin, tenuous stuff of 
its skin in a net you had left behind. 
Cold, and smooth in the hand. 
And the Sea, always a giver of last, but never first 
rewards, departed, its fins deep in the waves as it 
leapt from the net. 

Many stones and moons later, my spirit 
wandered back to the memory, wailing. 
That which comes in waiting drowns in fruition. 
If only as the papaya flower must 
to Become. 

Turning the gray threads of a Book 
a shadow in me recognizes revelations. 
Lion, lamb, the anonymous child. 
Oh? But what is joy without 
desire, his wide lover? Hunger without its jar? 
What is heaven without Longing? 
Or earth, without consummation? 

Not for me to know. Only to grasp, as even 
the unblinking water does, or as all life must. 
The body turns, but the spirit still wails, 
away from the Knowing it has no heart to 



Joshua Chun Wah Kam is a young, Chinese Malaysian writer. Born in 1996, he is currently home-schooled, hoping to take some AP courses and his SAT's sometime soon. He has been listed as one of the Commended Poets of 2009's Foyle Young Poets Award. He is partial to cheese, rice, and all forms of Celtic music (a combination of all of these would be preferable, of course!).