Bonsho Poem by Shivam Tyagi

Leaves green that brawls feed...from up in the air...the farmer sows....
Strikes the song..as I hit the bong....the bell tongs...as the father shows...

Trash around me disappears....where are the flaws? ? Where are the tears...? ?
Prayers travel with symphony...just as the river flows...

Grows the serenity of the atmosphere.....lost are all the games...all the players...
Leaves no end in my head....world a sketch....that my imagination draw...

The farmer sows the early morn, so...that I can hear a bonsho...!
Bonsho bonsho in my head.... Spiral out the farmer said....smokey forest burning red...winds blow....the fire spreads.....
Bonsho bonsho is the song....the bell tongs as I hit the bong...evaporates all the rights....in ashes are all the wrongs...

Numb brawls that feed leaves green..the sky stares....the silent shores...
Nights are long...when I hit the bong...the day goes as the father sows...

Travelling around in a magic bus..what is a way? ? Where is all the fuss.? ?
The journey just says to me...u r to sow...u r to grow...

A nub of the leaves green...numb inside...the air is keen...
Echoes in eternity.....the clank of the opening doors....

The karma just flows, so...that I can hear a bonsho...!
Bonsho bonsho in my head...Spiral out the farmer said....smokey forest burning red...winds blow....the fire spreads.....
Bonsho bonsho is the song....the bell tongs as I hit the bong...evaporates all the rights....in ashes are all the wrongs...