Under The Apple Tree

I was curious and with so many prayers.

I was fed, and still sometimes I would notice hunger.

When paying attention, there was always enough to eat.

And enough to keep the delicate balance of intake and exchanges for vitality.

Blessed to take respite from struggle.

There is so much beauty in that which aches. My beauty.

A lull found, against the delight of strength above and roots below.

I sat with golden eyes and deep longing to meet what was, with grace.

Though living was enhanced under the long branches’ protection,

I still wore too many layers under my dress to connect with the fullness of the

the tree’s ecosystem. Though I cherished this throne.

With sweetness of fruits given freely, I had courage to peel away an undergarment or two.

Satiated, my body began to feel lighter from a lifetime.

Perhaps it was within and just happened to be awakened during my rest.

Or maybe there is something most profound when we are resourcing from the natural world.

A bereavement moves through my once organized cells since my nest dissolved.

I still talk to it. Dream and reach for it.

It’s a remembering like all things past.

What the warm, golden red perch gave is mine to keep.

The pleasures of circling and climbing and endlessly exploring are still just for me.

Wisdom from musings and delight from frolicking

under and amidst this majesty have become me.

My tears became food for its anchor.

Perhaps my feminine offerings became a part of what I so loved.

My joy its joy. My nourishment its nourishment.

Or maybe it was all my dream on a path of return

to the great darkness where my many prayers could be alighted.