I cut up a pear
an overripe pear
fetid-smelling and soft
and feed it to
the birds
the lemon tree
the earth
What a waste
my mind scolds
of food
of money
thinking in its pride
that the world exists
solely for my consumption
that trees
and fruits
and flowers
are there for my harvest
and enjoyment
but the earth knows
in her quiet way
that there is no
enjoyer nor enjoyed
that everything
returns to her
finally
that nothing is born
or dies
only transformed
~~~
No comments:
Post a Comment