All winter long I waited.
Waited for the first signs of life
within the tree – and then
as the words of life began to sing
brighter, longer
I saw them.
Nothing more than specks at first
but swelling and greening
they grew until they named their name- Leaf.
And then spring, and the leaves grew
greener, fuller, and
I saw them.
Nothing more than specks at first
but swelling and paling
they grew until they named their name- Flower.
And as the season lengthened, the petals fell
like summer snow and
I saw them.
Nothing more than specks at first
but swelling and softening
they grew until they named their name- Plum.
And as summer shortened, the heat haze
shimmered strong and
I saw them.
Nothing more than specks at first
but swelling and morphing and crawling
they grew until they named their name- Earwig.
And they gorged and they stole and they spoiled
and not just the fallen fruit
but that on the tree I had hoped to eat
until I saw it.
Nothing more than a speck at first
but I start to thin about taking a bite
and out crawls the creature
and down goes the plum
to join the rotting jewels
to feed idle nature
which neither toils nor spins
but eats my plums.
Twinklings 