Mother Of Apple Trees
© Surazeus
2018 06 20
The woman rises from the flowing stream
and stands in grass beneath the apple tree.
She reaches hand to touch the glowing beam
that sparkles through the swirl of singing mist.
Gazing long at awful glow of the sun,
the woman touches each apple that glows.
Each apple is the sun congealed from rain,
she whispers breeze that ruffles flashing leaves.
Crouching low in silver flow of cool stream,
the woman watches stars flash from the sky.
She rises from dark stream at flash of dawn
and reaches out her hand to eat the sun.
With every bite of apples in her hand,
the woman eats the sunlight and the rain.
She feels sunlight glow in her beating heart,
and she feels rain flow from her dreaming eyes.
Beyond the pale of leaves around the tree,
the woman ventures forward toward the sun.
The sun rises high and falls in the stream
so she walks backward toward the singing tree.
While reaching out her hand to pluck the fruit,
the woman gazes at her grasping hand.
She flexes five fingers, gold in sunlight,
stretching them wide as branches of the tree.
I am the walking tree that must eat fruit,
she whispers in the swirl of sparkling mist.
She buries seven apple seeds in mud
and dips her fingers in the flowing stream.
She gazes at reflection of her face
and hovers fingers over flashing waves.
Her face separates in another face
who reaches hand to touch her blushing cheek.
Turning startled at sound of his strange voice,
the woman sees the man standing in grass.
She plucks fresh apple from the singing tree
and puts it in his hand for him to eat.
Staring at her reflection in his eyes,
the woman leans forward to kiss his mouth.
You are the apple of the sun alive,
she whispers as they embrace on soft grass.
The sunlight of his heart beams in her heart,
thrusting deep in dark shadow of desire.
Their bodies move in rhythm with the stream,
clinging to each other at flash of light.
She feels her breasts expand to mountain peaks
and gasps at gush of stream-sparks in her heart.
She feels bright stars flashing inside her eyes
when she becomes the dancing tree of joy.
Waking alone on grass under the tree,
the woman hugs herself in floating mist.
She waters saplings growing from black seeds,
caressing her belly round as the sun.
Clinging to long thick branches of the tree,
the woman howls at agony of light.
She pushes little baby from her womb,
and cradles it so it can suckle her breast.
Eating white apples composed of sunlight,
the woman hums while her child sucks white milk.
She gazes in bright sunlight of its eyes
and sees red apples swelling from blue rain.
The woman rises from the flowing stream
and stands in grass beneath the apple tree.
She helps small child to stand and take small steps,
then places sun apple in its small hands.
© Surazeus
2018 06 20
The woman rises from the flowing stream
and stands in grass beneath the apple tree.
She reaches hand to touch the glowing beam
that sparkles through the swirl of singing mist.
Gazing long at awful glow of the sun,
the woman touches each apple that glows.
Each apple is the sun congealed from rain,
she whispers breeze that ruffles flashing leaves.
Crouching low in silver flow of cool stream,
the woman watches stars flash from the sky.
She rises from dark stream at flash of dawn
and reaches out her hand to eat the sun.
With every bite of apples in her hand,
the woman eats the sunlight and the rain.
She feels sunlight glow in her beating heart,
and she feels rain flow from her dreaming eyes.
Beyond the pale of leaves around the tree,
the woman ventures forward toward the sun.
The sun rises high and falls in the stream
so she walks backward toward the singing tree.
While reaching out her hand to pluck the fruit,
the woman gazes at her grasping hand.
She flexes five fingers, gold in sunlight,
stretching them wide as branches of the tree.
I am the walking tree that must eat fruit,
she whispers in the swirl of sparkling mist.
She buries seven apple seeds in mud
and dips her fingers in the flowing stream.
She gazes at reflection of her face
and hovers fingers over flashing waves.
Her face separates in another face
who reaches hand to touch her blushing cheek.
Turning startled at sound of his strange voice,
the woman sees the man standing in grass.
She plucks fresh apple from the singing tree
and puts it in his hand for him to eat.
Staring at her reflection in his eyes,
the woman leans forward to kiss his mouth.
You are the apple of the sun alive,
she whispers as they embrace on soft grass.
The sunlight of his heart beams in her heart,
thrusting deep in dark shadow of desire.
Their bodies move in rhythm with the stream,
clinging to each other at flash of light.
She feels her breasts expand to mountain peaks
and gasps at gush of stream-sparks in her heart.
She feels bright stars flashing inside her eyes
when she becomes the dancing tree of joy.
Waking alone on grass under the tree,
the woman hugs herself in floating mist.
She waters saplings growing from black seeds,
caressing her belly round as the sun.
Clinging to long thick branches of the tree,
the woman howls at agony of light.
She pushes little baby from her womb,
and cradles it so it can suckle her breast.
Eating white apples composed of sunlight,
the woman hums while her child sucks white milk.
She gazes in bright sunlight of its eyes
and sees red apples swelling from blue rain.
The woman rises from the flowing stream
and stands in grass beneath the apple tree.
She helps small child to stand and take small steps,
then places sun apple in its small hands.
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