The drops fall.

Drops of light.

Lightning from the fountain.

Dripping like honey.

I know you have tasted it

as the others have done.

Even though you do not remember

as the memory of your own name has gone.

We are one to each other,

since before the clay vessel broke.

Everybody, everything.

Letting drops of existence fall.

Hey mama!

Look what I found:

My bed, my drawings,

My kitchen, and toys.

I thought they were gone

as I closed my eyes.

You as well, and papa,

disappear in the sky.

It is always in movement,

and building itself.

Giving us the chance,

of breathing again.

Leaving and taking, connected.

The donkey, and the moon

the hand, and the honey.

We are all orbiting each other

healing slowly

in free fall.