"A Return to Innocence..."

[psalm_onethirtyone]

There were years when I was a conifer
and a gymnosperm:
when any fruit I bore was naked
and my leaves were thin and tough and bitter.
I lost nothing in winter
but sometimes in summer there was something fresh and green on me
that lasted for a while
before it became like the rest.
I was tall and spicy-smelling and my blood was thick.

The world was extraordinarily loud and I waited for it to end.
I endured the wind and the voices
and the vast tide of people who moved around me without touching me,
and the dark water that nourished me
and the sun that pressed down upon my naked seeds.
I slept and woke and felt very little
because I permitted very little.

There are years when I am deciduous
broad and beautiful
full-leaved and easy to tear
and animals eat of me.
But the truth is that every fruit I bear is round and warm and soft
and feeds whatever takes it
and when it has been eaten my seeds are still alive and ready to grow
and I am finally
flourishing.

-

The fact is I see the little glowing flares of
cigarettes in the dark
and think of things I can't have
or worse, won't have
but I'm afraid of living without.
The fact is I try but never think I'm trying hard enough
and those little bursts of fire
that change into red glows at the tips of your fingers
make me realise how far inside myself I'm going
and I want to follow a light out.
The fact is a cigarette might be light enough.