There Are Apple Blossoms

There are apple blossoms under the moon. There are storms that wait, larks that sing in the meadows. Life is furious to grow. Blending, blending. Upon this curvature of earth, flat to the eye, we are walking and singing going along, singing. It is a plan worked out by nature (or by design). The vines grow at night and walkers come tripping, falling to the water pool, breathing the water, thrashing the grass, glowing, growing.