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The Fruit of Man

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The apple falls from the tree
Just far enough for you to
Grasp it and Cradle it
Between your delicately intertwined fingers
And you are careful
As you walk along landscape that
Shifts from river to forest
From rugged mountainside to delicate pastures
So careful that not even you
Can see the faint impressions you’ve left
Embedded on the surface
And it’s not until you reach the ocean
And you gently place it where the tide
Is licking its lips
That you see the ominous cloud that’s slowly been forming around you
You watch the tide come in and grasp the apple much too quickly,
Without grace or warning
And you stay just long enough to see it disappear
Over the horizon with the sun
And it’s not until you hear the rain
Gently whisper around you and
A single drop falls from your fingertip
Into the sea that you think
That you maybe should have held on,
Just a little bit longer




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