I split my cicada skin
devoured your leaves
knowing no poison,
no love nourishment
in that larval blindness,
a hunger finally true.
a poem from the movie "Leaves Of Grass" faithfully captured to the best of my hearing abilities. And this one is not by Walt Whitman.
and i also loved what follows the poem ..
Maybe what's true is in front of us, and we're moving toward it without even knowing it's there. Once you think you've got it all solved, what's left?