To create or to consume, that is the question
To cook or to gorge, needs answering
When a leaf flutters down from a tree
Dead, worn and bereft of life
The earth greets it with little mercy
And proceeds to devour it utterly
But ask the tree what she poured into that leaf
And she answers calmly, all the life that came before me
Our duty is to be, but our desire is to set free
What lives within us, from others already freed
From the mortal yoke
It takes a poke, a nudge and sometimes a push
For it comes not easy, not easily shook
But once you breathe the air of creation
You will never again question
Whether to eat or create
You draw upon the joys and pain of the billions before you
And you exhale into being, a beautiful bloom