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
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