Existence

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After all, the leaves have now fallen.
holding the thoughts that leave the trees.
Look how the streets have now been covered.
Laying flat as the pages you often see on my desk.
And I know not, whether to look for spaces in between them
Or to just gently press them beneath my feet.
If the wind plays her game hiding her cards.
Am I to run and chase after her and be played
like a record playing to please the listener’s heart?
Or am I to ignore every thing
and stomp ┬ámy feet and tell the earth ‘I exist’.?
Or to take the form of the wind?
Take the leaves with me.
Take them higher than all the trees.
-Manvendra Vidyarthi
(The Stories beneath the eyes)

A Message Through The Sun, The Earth, The Sky.

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Is this the sunset when the sea is painted in glittering gold?
Or the foreign lands?
Of whom I learn more, each day.
Like the memory I never lived.
Is that how the clouds make the earth taste?
Of which is hers to begin with.
Of which she is unknown.
Yet, it is all her own.
How she becomes more of what she was before.
O! The Sun!
O! The Earth!
O! The Sky!
How might I, through you convey?
In genuineness, what is hidden in the moon’s light.
-Manvendra Vidyarthi
(The Stories beneath the eyes)

The Extension (After the Angelectomy)

But I tell the infinite to find me.
Sleeping in the jungles of absurdity.
This nature keeps me still.

As for her, this is easy.
Which it will never speak.

It knows that I am weak.
All in where none of this finiteness.
Anything it will mean.

The white light will sit on me.
I will breathe through you I promise.
Accept me while there still be
The Infinite, The Time.

You’re too kind. I say to you again.
Too kind.
-Manvendra Vidyarthi.
(The Stories beneath the eyes)