The unsaid

There is so much unsaid 
forming a great margin 
for the little 
that gushes out into the main.
There are more spaces
where ecosystems grow 
without anyone's notice. 
Without any loss 
the ruins of a moment
become the background. 
Little things left to themselves 
comeback to their shelters. 
Outside, it rains 
and the puddles boil with essence. 
And death climbs out of the coffins 
to be that supportive back 
to the boquet of life.