Jun 20, 2013
In spring, the buds open softly for a fugacious while.
Like a vivacious bloom as Las Vegas legs.
There the petals opening to paint a perfect mood.
Have we come into this euphoria of forbidden layers?
As the orange , we peel back the flesh, engaging
with fangs. And it twas sweet, even the peel.
When the blade is raised to uncover the fruits of labor.
The ripened , from the blessed trees. We do eat
and nourish of that ripe. They are deserving slaughter.
And if we skinned our epidermis; we would not be ill.
Shall we then, rejoice in the dew drops upon moistened grass.
Smell the refreshing air before noon. We shall pant together.
To discover more when there is less to share.
To save our raven after taste. Yet, our teeth crunch the cartilage.
Our mouths spew seeds like the fountain of youth.
Still, we may search the whole world and thirst of sanguine cord.
Nay I say, my darling dear, to our beginnings of birth.
May we lay down to Mother Earth. And pray, we bear good fruit
until the roots are malnourished. And we should be thankful,
to bloom in full, the seeds that were wasted.
Empowerment For The Soul @ Lulu.com