Spring redeems itself
within the taste of one strawberry
grown in climbs beyond our seeming reach
enchanting mind into a startling mood
of innocent and grand appeal
as instinct opens into our
sensations yet again.

So much more than just a tip
or peak of something hard to reach,
this pleasure speaks in tongues of flesh,
that all might come to understand
the vast demand for spring's eternity;
living on in cyclic memories.

Ever living in the flow of nature's bent,
calling out, e'en as the white of snowy light
ascends to blind the mortal eyes,
that haven't learned to see beyond themselves;
yet enters somehow, at their bidding, again
into their fields of loving innocence.

Where strawberries grow
as lightning bugs glow once again;
and then, the sense of pure totality,
as youth and age become an interplay
that lives itself through all relationships
and you and I become just one
in pleasure of this taste that's spun
in infinities of gratitude
through a unity of life conceived again
in the reality of all experience.

Oh, unending pleasure in the taste
of this one ripe,evolving, succulent
strawberry enchantment . . .

?Michaelette?