Our Fates.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

ad so must i tell you now
about the persistence of the dropping rain
from the gray sky
to the roof following the gutter into a hole
into the graveled ground
into the canal that takes
everything back to the river

its passage had always been the most usual route
of the passage of any normal water
once free then tightened into a route
then spread into
a vast solution
diluted in a mass
of murky fluid world

i sometimes think if you heard the drops of rain singing
upon their arrival
their non-complaining songs
winding through all those guttered
existences

i sometimes wonder if you in some ways
remember
how we are alike sometimes
to those drops
to those dis-integrations
which are necessary
for the birth of the sea
and the branching of other
tributaries

like fingers of the hand
like hairs in our head
like some visions splitting in
the other junctions