Michael Schene: THE APPLE OF THE EARTH

Spring '13 TOC

 

I am the Apple the skin the meat the core.
I am the apple the seeds the rain the sun the Tree.
I am the bounty of the earth the scattered seeds.
Johnnie apple seed.
I am the burst the softness the delicious juice.
The thousand red hues.
The lips that touch each other
touch me the caress the memories
the bowl the fruit the warmth
appear and disappear.
The skin the meat the core
My stem my cord short and brown
the thing still tied
to the Tree of Life.
The days rich and full.
Look at my bottom the part
that is forgotten.
A thing of beauty not
the poets do not
the many parts do.
The touch the feel that does
of the parts.
Split open,
the juices run over the edge,
the sweet the rich the flavor
the first love just found.
The caress the embrace the next bite?
The halves the closeness the separation
the unbearable pain the thumping the heart
the hands the legs the mouth never touching.
The hunger the space the halves apart.
The yearning the desperation the search the connections
soul mates forever?
Taste the flesh, smell the freshness,
savor it in your mouth the memory
the right connection.
The forever broken the loss the space
the promises the connection the disconnection.
The again the flesh the meat the core
the goodness the now the pain the halves
the fear the juice the sharing.
Time the passing the stop the embrace.
I have a sand dollar embedded in my center
and hidden underneath seeds.

 

::Next::

Not Enough Night
Not Enough Night
© 2012 Naropa University