Untitled Poem

PART 1

I think
the things

we think

think us;

like raindrops
cast from clouds

bejeweled and sparkling
(in blades of light)

we
fall
upon
the earth's
fissured skin,

accumulate
in ruts & crevices

and
soaked
up by the loamy soil,

with roots
and mitochondria
co-mingled,

succumb

and in the darkness

sleep

(azured skies
and honeyed light
beckoning).