Streaming thoughts of insomniac

drips
of drops
drip
tap
tap tap
dropping  
from one passage
unto another  
splashing
splattering into
dropplets to
re-join  
with pull of
gravity
wallowing swirls
countering-
clock-wise-
err
(tic toc, tic toc)
as nature
intended
bravely slipping
into unknown
 
world of
underground
blooming  
Bach
toccata
illuminated by
another sun, moon
starless skies
gods floating on  
sea of fugue-
forked tongues
in deafening
silent forest of  
silvering nebula
 
threading
twisting
right then left
betwixt
dark and woeful black
all things  
melancholy  
flicker within darkness  
of
pitiful light
bare baroque  
barely remembering
the cloud
nurturing  
rain and slivery  
temperament  
of  
love
held in its bosom
streaked
pearls of wisdom
 
re-
link-wishing
on yesterday’s
blossoming
seeds, weeds, needs  
as thin as wants
on hands with sins
writing this poem
with a quill
which never held
ink
drips
of drops
drip
tap
tap tap