it's surprising
to watch fruit grow
on a tree of your own
to water and nurture
winding branches, crumbling, brown
until the subtlest hint
of life
peeps through
fecund and green
and then
as if from nowhere
a POP
of orange
just one
then all at once
petals reaching upwards
wanting to be touched
(just as you do)
by the sun
and eventually
(just like all of us touched by the sun)
they shrivel and fall
leaving something tangible behind
in the case of the pomegranate
a waxen center bud
gives way to a scarlet orb
as it slowly swells
into ripeness
(just as you will)
