What Holds Me, What Roars in Me
*Audio for Poem Ends at 02:00
In the morning, I wear
my fuzzy sweater—
its softness reminds me
of when my grandfather
held my hand in Queens,
before we knew
we’d lose each other
to time’s
quiet
migration.
A lotus biscuit melts on my tongue,
sweet like the perfume
my sister dabbed
on her wrist the day
she won her award.
I clapped loud—
louder than the ocean
we once ran toward, laughing,
salt clinging to our skin
like fries fresh from the bag.
I once saw a lion
stand in stillness—
not roaring,
just watching.
And I thought,
maybe courage isn’t noise,
but knowing
when to stay.
I press the kara
to my wrist,
a cool circle of faith—
it grounds me
when I’m not sure
who I’m becoming.
Around my neck,
my gold necklace holds a locket
etched with the Khanda Sahib—
a quiet reminder
of who I am
when I forget.
At night, I help roll rotis
with my mom—
the dough soft between our palms,
her bangles clinking
like a quiet rhythm of care.
Sometimes I ask
the rice
as it runs
through my fingers,
what truly makes me happy?
It never answers.
But still,
I listen.
My other gold necklace
lies beside a crumpled note
from a friend back in Queens—
I almost threw it away.
It still smells like home.
I didn’t know
how much I needed
small things
to stay.
I will do good in my classes,
I whisper,
watching the navy sky
turn maroon at dusk.
I will celebrate
my sisters’ wins
like they are mine.
I will eat
something warm tonight–maybe chole, or dal–
and mean it
when I say
thank you.
Jasmeen Kaur is a student at SUNY Old Westbury studying computer science. She has taken classes in creative writing and poetry writing. Her poetry explores memory, identity, and the natural world through vivid imagery and emotional reflection. She draws inspiration from everyday places and moments of stillness. Her poetry has been shaped by voices like Ada Limón and Ocean Vuong, blending tenderness with strength and clarity.