Warship/War

by Su Thar Nyein 

2019, Shwedagon Pagoda. 

I sleep  

a little when my mother  

tells me to pray. 

I close my eyes. 

I dream.  

Child-like. 

I call her over.  

Hey, look. The grass is growing. 

Sometimes I think each blade 

is a small god: 

proof of survival.  

strength of breath. 

I say a prayer.  

Not scripture or ancient writing, 

but a hieroglyph of my hope. 

A wishbone. A miracle.  

A mouth in a drought. 

Mumble in the silence,  

in the serenity, 

“သာဓု သာဓု သာဓု​” 

2023, Shwedagon Pagoda. 

I’ve wanted to pray  

for a while. My eyes can't close. 

The smallness of a person  

in an earthquake. 

A home in a tsunami.  

A drowning deity. 

Prayers stuck  

in my teeth. Gums uprooting. 

My dog tongue.  

1 a phrase said after finishing a prayer, pronounced “Thadu, Thadu, Thadu," 

meaning “well done." 

Sometimes, I cling onto  

life like death.  

I meditate, hands poised on  

my lap as tightropes, 

floating like Buddha with 

the world below me. 

I am touching the sky.  

Raindrops or bullets.  

A mouth of ashes.  

Unsaid and undone.  

Whispering 

under the melody  

of a bomb, 

“သာဓု သာဓု သာဓု” 

"သာဓု သာဓု သာဓု," a phrase said after finishing a prayer, pronounced “Thadu, Thadu, Thadu," meaning “well done." 

About the Writer...

Su Thar is a Literary Arts student at the School of the Arts, Singapore, set to graduate in 2025. Her work has placed first in Singapore's 2022 National Poetry Competition (Senior Category) and York University’s 2023 YorkIASG Competition. She is also an alumna of the SUNHOUSE Summer Writing Mentorship. Her favorite part of writing is explaining her work to her mother in broken Burmese.

About the Artist...

Ian Castro Soto is a senior at Savannah Arts Academy. He specializes in graphite, pen and ink while always doing his best to experiment with different mediums.