I think, therefore iambic pentameter

Unravel in the quiet underneath
the earth's plush blanket, nestled in the soil.
Let go. Unclench your fingers and your teeth,
and let the rain unwind this mortal coil.
Peel away the husk, unleash the germ,
in silence sweet as dying, dark as sleep,
waiting through the full unspoken term;
you must entrust to spring what you would keep.