Posts Tagged ‘pinecone’

Like a pinecone
after it’s been trod on

and snowed on and
summered and rained on,

that is how I find myself.
Softer now, and with less

sense of separateness.
The earth has a fine way

of saying here, here.
And gravity, it makes things

so easy. I would not have thought
it sounded so good,

all that wearing down,
lessening to dust.

I could not have imagined
sharing my browns, much less

losing my sharpness, my articulate
serration, spilling my seeds.

Though spilling, that is what seeds
are for. And the opening beyond.

And losing the self, that is perhaps
what a self is for.

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