Nestled in a tree high above what you can reach
As life changing a gift as the acquisition of speech.

Roots so deep formed into knots of oak
Climbing it a task as if only God spoke it
A vision of grandeur for only kings to know it
To be blessed by the breath it gives a story of its own
To have a beat of life itself would surely have a throne.

The climb to a feast,
A labour of love.
To bring back to the village
The symbol this one fruit embodies,
Would be a sign from the Heavens above.

The top is still hidden by the leaves in the wind,
To grip is becoming a chore
Surely to release at this height would result in the blackness beneath the floor.
The shimmering sun,
Now the thieving moonlight,
A long climb of Everest
Still no treasure in sight.

As the crow flies
There would be hope in my eyes
But to reach this prize
Would need the will of Leonidas.

A sweeter taste than what you can taste freely.
To feel such a wonder be pressed on my lips
Abandon? Pursue? Is the theme of this day
Taste it I may --
But no, not today.