Something In His Pocket

I ate the luscious fruit off the trees.

The trees, those before my time, had planted.

From nectars and nourishment, 
I grew stronger each day.

As I grew, I climbed those trees, pruned them,

Spoke of them and to them,

A natural bond emerged. In reciprocity, they sheltered me, fed me.

I climbed to their highest boughs, brought down the fruits they bore, for those who would not climb, for those who could not climb. 
I wished them strength and nourishment, to grow strong as I.

Each time I climbed, I treasured a fruit deep in my pocket. 
Awestruck, 
The seeds of life could be, were in my pocket.

I planted, using the fruit itself as the saplings’ nourishment. I wished them strength and nourishment, to grow strong as I.

That reciprocity I would convene.
A tree for me, a tree for her, a tree for him, a tree for all. 
That journey began with heart alight.

Returning home, the fruit was long eaten, 
The trees, kneeled and barren. 
The earth cracked and parched. 
No seeds of life remained.

I planted, for me, for her, for them, for all. 
Alas, my brothers and sisters, 
They ate. And ate. And ate. 
Greedily, without mind, spitting away the seeds of life.

-A dedication to my life companion in this journey that has no name-