Falling Upwards Poem by Tarun Cherian

Sometimes I lie down on a stone bench in the park
and look down at the sky,
and I think if I let go I'll fall like a leaf
past the trees and slow into the clouds
and through the deep whispering blue.
Sometimes a hawk slides
slow from the pool of one eye to another
and not a seam.

Sometimes there's the trees and I.
Sometimes I am the stone bench, sun-warm and lazy.

Sometimes the eucalyptus scent-blown shivering.
Sometimes I lie down on a stone bench in the park
and look down at the sky,
and I let go and I fall like a leaf
past the trees and slow into the sky
and through the deep whispering blue.