Mining The Tropes Of Our Lives For Archetypes

there we were again, inside,
drawn down the narrow shaft of perspective
past mind’s open maw
into the pit of coal and diamonds
where the empty ache of eons rests
above, below, and all around us
in the bones of the ages

there we were again, inside the mind,
mining the tropes of our lives
for archetypes

and blinking at each other
faces blackened with soot
our eyes startled out like headlights
when we remembered
what we left above
for this dark

the light
the breeze
the open field

the leaves of fall
the winter sleep
the green spring
the light summer dresses rippling in the breeze