Resurrection I: An Invitation
In the aging ripeness
of autumn's bounty
I am the sweet air dripping
vanilla scented Katsura leaves.
Search for me
among earth's cool carpet
where delicate chanterelles fan out
around their hosts.
Pluck my burnishing apples
eyes one step ahead of hands,
fill your woven baskets to brimming,
squeeze the purple-nectared grape
the golden-syruped pear
and feast.
Resurrection II: A Longing
Teach me how
a leaf curls inward
releasing its hold on the branch
or a raindrop's silken skin
bursts when it joins
another.
When I burn
like the star bright eyes of my daughter
reaching her hand
toward wind washed bamboo
then in holiness
will I be made anew.
-Suzanne Edison
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