I dare not pick the fruit before
it is ready and ripe.
Ready and red it will reveal
itself to me; its countless seeds
ready to eat. A crack in its side,
it will open itself to be seen,
but only when it is good and ready.
Until then, I’ll wait patiently.
Trusting in nature’s processes,
knowing that the longer I wait
the sweeter the juice will be.
So when that slice in the side
breaks apart, a door opened,
a fertile heart, I swear I’ll savor
each moment of labor,
delicately dissecting each juicy jewel.
I’ll give praise for every stain of red
upon my hands and lips.
I’ll remember the moments
of heavy hunger and how I met them
with trust, not lust.
And I’ll remember
I’ll remember,
I’ll remember the timeless Tree
that brings my love, right here, to me.
Hannah Arin is a junior at Pitzer College pursuing a double major in religious studies and philosophy.
