The Ripe, and Ruined
The Ripe, and Ruined

The Ripe, and Ruined

She she she she only ever ver ver ver ver
Walks to to count count her steps,
Eighteen teen strides and she stops to abide
By the law that she herself has set.
That eighteen steps is one complete set,
And before the next nine right and nine left.
She looks up up at the blueeeeeee,
And whispers to all of the above
“Don’t let me drown, don’t breathe alone,
No kicks no pangs no broken bones.
Never let me sink,
Always feel at home,
No sticks no shanks and no stones.
Never leave it too late,
Always enjoy the taste,
Of the great great great grey world of hearts.”

As all dogs everywhere bark bark bark bark
It’s worth knowing,
Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in
The ripe, and ruined.

One of my favorite parts of getting out into the woods is seeing the gentle recycling that takes place right before us. The old topples to feed the new. Life takes hold wherever suitable and expands as far as possible. There’s not much to this post except a desire to share the deep pleasure I find in witnessing this cycle of ripe and ruin.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...

One comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *