The crackle of the leaves in the Wind

The crackle of the leaves in the wind

poem:

The crackle of the leaves in the wind what does it entail? The death of a relationship? Is it like to just move on bus? Will there ever be genuinely meaningfully wiliness within myself? Instead of touching down slow I can actually go. You can maintain a fully active third eye or you could just die. You don’t have to take the bus to be able to do a Messiah sing-along. You can go back to Yale glee club as long as there is no pandemic. When you meet God you can withdraw into a tunnel. You do not have to premeditate you words you can just write them. When you reach superconsciousness you can bend your knees a lot longer. You can build a monastery with only you in it. Instead of approaching life in a complicated way you can just simplify. Poetry can be written superconsciously instead of just making a wastrel of yourself. After working ten years you don’t throw it all away you just keep on going. You can utilize every moment instead of just be slow. The Simran done before the creation of time can be mine.

A Poem by David Smith

November 17, 2020