Picking the alphabet
off the orchard trees,
pollen of inspiration
on the wings of bees.

Letters placed in the basket,
others falling to the ground,
listening to descending whispers
making a quiet sound.

Collecting the ripened,
inspecting at fingertips,
breathing them in,
crossed over my lips.

Bitter, sweet, flesh and rind,
each bite wrong and right,
discerning from tongue to mind,
nourishment of pure delight.

Harness the devoured,
taste all the flavor,
letters upspring words,
sentences become a savior.

The pen my pungi,
transported into sentence charmer,
cultivating the crop
sowed by the word farmer.

From the planted seeds
grows a skeleton of bark,
harvest its fruit
and make your mark.