Airborne Poem by Jagannath rao Adukuri

Yesterday is not felt now
He that touched the core
Could feel it in the clouds
The trees were mere vapor
The breeze touched the treetop
The leaves rustled gently
The rocks were cream-colored
A boy rose out of the tree
A mere speck of experience
A dot on white consciousness
Another stood on a stick
One more image tucked away
It did not matter what, when.
Consciousness streamed forth
In sleep and in wakefulness
Sometimes I do not remember
History of the mind, of the body
I recount experiences in a haze
Their chronology in a heap.
Today is another matter
Frail bodies floated in the air
They were the essence of things
A fuselage is in the making
The yellow bird will soon take off
But, alas, thirty percent weight is fuel
As we enter the sunset zone
Its elfish lightness will go down.
It will become a vaporous entity
Of tomorrow’s yesterday.