A man who doesn't eat
grows apple trees to witness
an entire life span he knows
can't be seen in a mirror.
You are born and you are told
to write a story.
Plot, ******, problem, resolution,
enlightenment? Iv'e yet to learn.
So I write about nothing,
about apples and life
but so many other words
could be said about the way we breathe
and how we act faced with fear
or where we turn in the dark
yet a lot of me is sitting here
just listening and feeling, quietly.
I'd like the ocean closer to
watch the waves journey
and maybe actually notice
what the cracks are drawing when
infant birds are hatching since I never
lived in such a small space.
I'm trying to see everything at once
and though I thought I was failing,
before me is a life form producing
juicy epiphany despite confinement and
frost covered grounds and though the man
will never **** offspring for pleasure,
He saw it's entire life before him.