A Fruit

A fruit
This rare
And exotic
Cannot so easily be peeled
And turned
Into dung.

It’s no light snack!
It’s not the same as scratching
An itch
Or feeling release after
A good sneeze.

Fruit like this
To be held, so tenderly.

Massaged and warmed
By the hands
And the sun
Until the depth of
Its fragrance
Pours out to be received
By your eager

Take your time,
My friend.
Breathe, and relax.

You’ve waited so long
For this ambrosia,
Let it linger.
All of your senses have been
So patient.
Don’t snatch this away
From them.

Don’t leave your body
All alone, in this
Present moment

Listen to what your tongue
Is silently whispering to you
About the subtle hidden nature
of Love.

Or you may miss it, until
The next turning
Of the wheel
Of seasons.

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