The Harvest

by Gabriel Alexander

Poet Laureate, Okarian Sector

Honeyed light sings across my back

In the garden with loving hands

A pomegranate

A bow across a string.

She stands, palms open

Listen,

Pale green tendrils unfurl

Lemons hang from trees like raindrops

Wheat stalks bend in whirls of sun.

Arise, arise!

The world is alight

Morning dawns and seasons change

We gather, we harvest

For it is more painful to remain in the bud

Than to chance blossom

Just as the mighty oak awaits in the acorn

The butterfly in its chrysalis

And the bird in its egg.

We fall in love

As she blooms

And resurrects us.