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do not rush your fruit
you were not planted
for markets or profits
and not for parades

when your time does come
and it will
let your outer part soften,
rot and leather around you

eventually the stem will give
like a child
running off to play
with the others

here is where you remember
the larger reason you came

the great field
of wildness out of which
we spring
privileges no dream

it’s true
you don’t get to be
flashy and pink
but you never really
wanted that

now gravity pulls
in a way only rumored
and even
your individuality
is claimed

here is the secret
they never told you

give up solidness

it was only useful once

save only your interior
willingness to learn
now capturing the sweet air
like a wax record
layering moment
upon moment
into the printed key
you will leave
as your only art

Photo by Nathan Hulsey/Unsplash

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