As rain falls…

As rain falls,

Let the lapping shore turn

Into a field of stars.

Memory held by 

The imprint of raindrops

Catching straggly light rays

And mirroring their mother-son.

The surface of water is

A time capsule,

Reflecting the ever present 

Now, then the future,

Letting past images 

Sink below the surface

Like fallen ashes

That dissolve 

Into the memory of water.

We lay our hands down

On the edge of shores,

Hoping to drink time,

And immortalize elastic skin.

Or, we console it into ladles,

And sprinkle its rain

On green hills drunk

With purple flowers.

Five seconds infused

Into each prebloom bud.

We chop them down, 

Hacking away mere minutes

Till all the rolled hills 

Of earth show bare.

Naked.

The world is, 

Floating on dust

Cosmic and small,

Infinite and imperceptible,

Enslaved by will of wind

Or, alternatively,

Nourished by it.

Given life.

Subtle in disposition

Profound in actuality

We are only

Living dust.

All is all,

Is 

The temporary awareness

Of raindrops in water,

Bubbles on the shore.

And in them

You, me, we

Simply are.

And in the 

Plunk, pitter patter

Of our execution

Let them hear us fall.