Posts Tagged ‘pomegranate’

The Gift

It still had its leaves on it,
the pomegranate she handed me.
And holding that smooth red sphere
in my palm, I felt not only
the jeweled weight of each bright seed,
but also the weight of the many nights
the fruit had hung on the tree,
felt how the nights had slowed the growth
so the fruit could develop more sugar.
Not all things get to ripen.
Oh, this small gift of sweetness.
How it opened in me such red tenderness—
the memory of a boy learning how
to open and eat a pomegranate,
scarlet juice trickling down his chin.
And now. I hold it in awe,
this beautiful thick-skinned globe,
hold it less like a fruit,
hold it more like a love
I was just beginning to know.

Read Full Post »




Like a pomegranate, full

of hidden seeds.

That’s what they say

about a woman’s mind.

What they don’t know is

exactly how juicy

those seeds might be,

how full of sweetness,

how red, how if they

were planted, the world

would never look

the same again.

Read Full Post »

I thought I knew what love was,
and picked it from the tree—
red and smooth, hard, round
filled with ruby seeds.

I picked it ripe and lovely,
I cupped it in my hands
but did not want to spill its juice
or tear its flawless skin.

And so I set it in a bowl
to admire it on the table
and I admired till I did not,
until I forgot to see it.

And the skin began to wither,
turned to leathered, sunken rind,
and the color lapsed to dullish rust
and the ruby seeds inside—

I never knew their sweetness,
never tasted their garnet juice.
What became of the weight of love,
this love I thought I knew?

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: