The Wind the Avocado Tree and Me

Late avocados in January
Shaken down by desert winds untimely
Shining the sparkling stars to the very
Diamonds of heaven they seem to be

I watch the old tree breathing with the wind
It knows life is a dance and not a race
Obeying the laws no man can rescind
Showing there is more to life than we see
Dancing with grace in the timeless embrace
Of simple natural reality

I join the dance with the wind in my face
Unending unbegun where all is one
We children of the universe we three
The wind the avocado tree and me

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVI

well chosen....these words are........... was sliping over each line and falling into the next......beautiful style.
misty..

Thanks, Misty!

The old avocado tree is happy; it's eighty-three degrees here today--"the warmest place in the nation," as they are saying on the telly--and crystal-clear. The avocados are falling, still, gently onto a bed of fallen leaves below. I love how avocado trees provide that soft landing for their own fruit, by providing a mat of leaves (which fall one-by-one the year around) below their branches.

And yet I have never tasted an avocado. I just love the tree because it is unusually tall, evergreen, and has always been here. It's huge, and looks friendly. I gather the fallen avocados--along with some few I can reach on the lowest branches--in a bag every day to hang on my neighbor's mailbox. Then she leaves bags of apples, along with the occasional odd fruit--last night it was, of all things, a papaya--on mine; a commodity exchange, I suppose.

Thanks again, so much, for your close and kind reading of my poetry. You know I love yours.

Love,

+Stevie