(an apple)

One day,
the girl walked down to the bottom of her garden
to see all that grew there.
She looked at the jasmine,
the holly-bush
and the tiny apple tree.
And she gasped
and leaped with joy,
for upon that tiny apple tree,
upon one slender, green branch
hung an apple.
Small and green, shiny and round –
A perfect apple.
And so she danced, for the apple,
for the tree,
for the glory of the world
and the wonder of the universe.
The sun set as she danced,
and when she was done
she left the little garden
and skipped back into the house.
The next morning,
she returned –
and gasped and leaped with joy,
for upon the tiny apple tree,
upon one slender, green branch
hung another apple.
The girl danced.
As she danced,
Fruit after beautiful fruit appeared
until that little tree was laden with round, shiny
perfect apples –
and then the jasmine blossomed,
the holly swelled,
and the garden was a crescendo of tendrils,
green and new,
Entwining
And stretching into the sky.
The garden was full,
and the ivy creeped out into the street,
and the maple bowed deeply
and embraced the garden next-door.
Nature’s bounty grew and grew
As the girl danced,
until all the world – the great, wide world
was green and twining,
organic and pulsating,
clean and powerful
As it once was.
Long before the garden, the girl
And her dance.

SJL: 29th August, 2005