What
the plum tree spoke
Same
as what it seemed to evoke
Meanings
into my meanderings
When
climbing her prickly branches that day
The
same day she filtered the sun through her ancient wrinkled twigs
Wearing
her ageless, illuminated leaves
The
deep textures displayed themselves as new selves
Appearing
through the lush flickering of possibilities
While
the ants scurried across their highways
Leading
to new pathways
Where
the many seemed as one
Dancing
effortlessly in the breeze and sun
Risking
it all the for the perfect moment
To
surrender to nature’s course of action
That
appeared shiny and new
Delicate
and vulnerable
The
same day her pregnant fruit begged to be recognized
Longing
for my hands to reach its soft and subtle skin
Plump
and juicy, ready to burst
Some
anxiously dropping with the whisper of my breath
Some
squishing and oozing between my toes
Never
knowing the softness of my fingertips
So
dangle as you might
Some
of you in plain sight
Others
elusively unseen
In
this gleaner’s dream
The
same day, if I had nothing to say
Because
of watching the divine so well hung and displayed
I'd
still be cradled in her neglected and shriveled old branches
Suspended
with the harvest that I covet
Sitting
with the stillness of that moment
Listening
to the silence of what the plum tree spoke
