Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Pluck me (5.10.10)

I'm that yellow fruit
ripe, full of life,
the perfection beyond you,
the fullness you constantly desire,
but fail to attain.

I'm that star up above
shining on your darkness
I'm the light you detest,
the truth you so much hate.

I'm that gentle flowing stream
pure, divine, serene.
You can only but dream
to relax, nourish, as I do.

I'm that dark green leaf,
fat with life, calm
with nature. My presence
magnifies your inadequacy.

I'm that rose flower
early in the morning
a dew resting on my petal.
I'm at home with myself.

Pluck me, for I'm more
than these. I am
what you're against, but
secretly yearn to be.

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