Reincarnation

You offered me a kingdom, I traveled no further than a garden I was given to till and attend; was that first fruit of your blessed soil, or were my blossoms on the wrong end? That apple I bit into, far from the mansion on the hill, they were my eyes, my hands that held the fruit, it was entirely my will. That apple so firm and round... the flesh, so red, the juice so sweet: coils of ever greater desire wound round my hands and feet – I have revisited those circles, taut springs and gears of hissing, squeaking time. Like the burgundy of the grape, the press of the vine, now there were seasons, light and dark from which to harvest, absent the hearts, my cultivations of outer-rind. What is our Sign? Born in the beginning...searching an infinite Universe...all lost and all mine.