Sonnet #126

A leaf falls in loneliness, that I know,

But it lands into the communion of souls

All lost leaves, all melting green into wormholes

Where the cosmic forces will reap and sow

There is a city in the soil, a galaxy of aliens

Every crevice in a stone is a suburb of the world

A leaf falls in loneliness, but then it drapes uncurled

upon the billions. Each footstep strike is salient

to the crushed houses and reconstruction where roots

Rebuild and insects crush and fungal pathways push

the highways of the underworld back from the boot

There is a convoy of life in every drop of river rush

There are spores of hope for every bit of soot

We are never alone in the room, never a dead hush