What You Are Made Of

No weeping for the apple that falls In your hands, caress the fruit Ponder the birth of life between your fingers Call to the tree that was once a seedling Hear how the seed descends from ancient orchards Now find the distant gardens nurtured by a younger sun With tender mouth peel away time and memory Taste on your lips salt and wind from oceans Smell on your skin desert sand and heat Sate your thirst with the crisp chill of rain Gaze here on nurturing hands that came before yours You too have fallen to earth from the reach of history I will not weep for you, my apple In my hands I will hold you fast Reveal infinite flavor and texture I long for the delicacy of your origins To see in your eyes, the boundless skies gazed by your ancestors To feel in your arms, embraces given to countless children To hear in your breath, kindred voices whisper their love I dare to taste the tears of laughter that echo your name Savor in the courage of life for the fallen apple Taste and know the first of many journeys Everyday new spices will gently transform your legacy Remain in my hands high above ground Bear witness to my never-ending labor My only wish, to know what you are made of