Please click images for links to a few of my favorite things, or proceed below for my writing.

reverse of volume - onishi yasuaki

butterflies, rafael aroujo

Rockefeller Center NYC - Mina Hu

reverse of volume - onishi yasuaki

mina vesper gokal

NicktoLee/Banksy

NicktoLee/Banksy

2/19/10

In The Land Of the Living

 
In the land of the living
there are orchards in full bloom.
Ripe fruit heavy like rain, like Possibility,
hangs from the branches
and makes the air around it
feel heavy with the scent
of cherry, plum, and i-can, and maybe-i-could.

I watch from the hilltop
that rises to meet the foot
of my bed.
I peer across the empty white
sheets
of my dreams
and steal a memory of light, of color.

In the morning there's a little boy there,
he looks just like you.
Every dawn he climbs the tree.
I can tell by the way he pauses
to recollect himself
along the way
that he is even proud
of the scratches,
the scrapes and the bruises,
for as he ascends,
his limbs begin to mirror
the patterns of the tree bark.

He doesn't seem to want to Wait
for Fallen fruit
and I think this is why
I admire him, study him so carefully,
remember him so deeply.

He doesn't even want the fruit that's ripe.

He climbs
to the fragilest extensions
of the tree's limbs;
those sketch like branches
stretching out as if the tree itself
is tiptoeing
ever so slightly
through time,
Waiting
to touch the sky.

Every morning at dawn my boy
he goes to the most farfetched edges
of that precarious terrain,

to carress
the newborn
buds.

Watching him it's as if
you would think
it was he himself
in another day and time who
planted the seed which grew
to resemble that bud
which grew to resemble
that tree
which grew to resemble
he.

I wonder if the bud
would survive
without his care,
without his simply
being there,
I wonder if the other living people
living in the land of the living
realize

it's he who feeds them.

I've never seen him eat.

It's as if
he wouldn't dare
to chew 
his dream.

It's as if
there's something else
that feeds him-

I think
he feeds upon
the Climb.

Just like that cherry tree,

he eats the Sky.

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