*

I see you, waiting on the corner of everywhere
For opportunity to jump into your pocket
Or come to your call like a servant
To the raising of your hand.
It doesn’t work that way.

Life is not pre-fabricated,
Lukewarm and waiting
To become fast food
To satisfy your hunger.

It is a fruit,
That grows from the fragile centre
Of a flower.

Slowly,
Drinking the sun
That sets a fire at its core;
Cloaked in dawn,
And veiled in eternity.
Bathed in the tears of heaven
It awaits the harvest
And holds the seeds of Eden
That must grow in the heart.

*