I am an apple

I’d like to enjoy the process of ripening.

The becoming

the shaping into

a delicious showcase

of what Mother Earth can do.

I’d like to lean into how

my body bulges with season’s arrival

(or season’s ending, depending where you look).

I’d like to laugh and scream with glee

as the branch releases me

my tumble downward begins.

I’d like to see that for what it is:

a reunion from whence I came

and all the Universe

is invited to witness.

I’d like to accept my bruises,

to surrender —

will my seeds disperse with purpose

or shall I be plucked to nourish another?

I imagine I will slowly

become a tree

emerging in wise time –

in that slow

old way

that nature invented.

I imagine I’ll stand

right where I need to be

I’ll ripen my fruit

I’ll give them a place to fall

like I once did.

My roots will hold firm

the possibility of becoming.

For now

I’d like to enjoy the process

of ripening.

The becoming

the shaping into

a delicious showcase

of what Mother can do

and the wisdom there is

in just letting go.

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