Makes Your Day Poem by thomas skypembrook

swell now well
that tennyson speaks and tells
i meditate here and learn
so much to ascertain
life is fine like wine
sweet like the sunlit echoes
calling the mind
it doesn't reply or float mementoes.
just the mind knows
nothing is it.
just the mind scrolls,
away from everything.
don't think
don't be
don't go extinct.
just breathe and get all free.
the mind is unknown
it doesn't stay.
the mind expresses what is not found.
it makes your day.