While I’m posting old things, here is another from my notebook, also written last year.
I hold an orange, ruby light of the sky refracts through it. My hands, articulate, separate sections off the orange and bring them to my mouth, the mind comprehending all, trying to articulate in turn this experience (never rest!)
A tree has made this orange, crafted it, constructed it to be sweet and delicate, protected in its leathery shell, like a secret whose sweet solution I have learned from my ancestors. But the tree makes this fruit. It is a creator which inherited this task from its ancestors, and each fruit contains seeds, which may continue the tree’s line.
It makes the fruit out of habit — no longer are the fruits harvested in the wild and the seeds spread by careless rodentia. The tree’s family succeeds not by attracting rodents but by contract with humans, who will continue the persistence of this tree’s family as long as it pleases them to eat their fruit.
As the mouse gathers the nut and stores it for food and procreation of the nut’s species — as this is advantageous for mouse and nut, so it is advantageous for us to take to each other. To find and be found, pluck and be plucked, to keep home together, for pleasure and to pass our seed. The human procreative relationship is reciprocal, and warm, creating a mutually beneficial situation that is the bosom of our children. Thus is love arisen, does it emerge from this earth.
