Dark Eggs Hatching

we can remember nights like these, cricket fed nights in the deepest lounge of Summer, we can remember too why the night feeds us a comfort not found during the day, where we mill about rutting along stoned moss smooth worn paths we pass off as civilization or progress or even democracy, we remember at night why all the shadows we see perfectly foil what we hide in the open light of day, the night tills memories as if fallowed fields waiting for our dreams to seed our souls' rebirth with the slowest of drips, writhing tendrilled exits trip every threshold we can imagine grabbing hold and driving its teeth into the concrete mountains we build to block the trees and keep back the sky ,as we thirstily drink from the weathered cracks water keeps running back through towards to the sea and while the Sun doesn't care that we institutional behavior to shackle our journey with all these little stops and kinks and muled heavy backs as we build dams along the way still gathering sand when dawn comes and a simple admiration of her gravity is all that is needed, to feed to the eyes when they hand themselves back to the nose to see what it smells like to feel beauty again with the better wings of all the things blind glorious beauty and faith in small smiles can be returning the Sun to the sea, breaking all our shells , you and me...