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Rated: E · Poetry · Spiritual · #1463396
In case listening for the Muse isn't safe, the Poet explores the first of many religions.
Eve

Today I watched an apple tree grow,
and washed my feet where rivers will flow.
The flowers died but turned to fruit.
The water flows onward, around my boot.

The water changes but always seems cold,
and watching a tree grow, I realize I’m old.
The moment dies but a new one is born,
the apple grows to become woman’s scorn.

For when she covers her Self in shame,
she learns the meaning of hatred and blame.
She learns that water can burn like a flame,
always changing and never the same.

Oh Tree of Knowledge please shake this vision
the story of one woman’s hungry decision.
Turn our hearts instead to the truth,
that all things are changing, like rivers, and youth.






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Written within the parameters of the theory of "MultivalenceOpen in new Window.


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