I did not know I am not real
Tricked my mind into believing
A life had something to do with having a heart
Beating somewhere between Heaven and Hell
That felt an imaginary emotion someone dubbed love
To write greeting cards that said what love is
Without having a clue how it felt to fall into its pit
But what does it matter?
It’s just pretend and I am not real
A whisper from the fantasies of trees where birds nest
And bees live to pollinate the fruit that grows on their branches
Being at the whim of the fantasies of creatures that fly
While I am left standing on the ground that seems as real as me
I wonder if I will fade away into the space I do not really occupy
When flames come to burn the tree into ashes and kill the winged life-bringers
When they are gone who will there be to keep imagining me?
Who will there be to mourn my passing into the nothingness from which I sprang?
How could I know I was not real when I touched the leaves that left each fall?
Each fall when I thought that what I felt was love but was nothing more
Than the birds and bees in their battle to control the tree
To control the other who each depended on and saw as an enemy
Instead of looking on each other as lovers with a real destiny
But the fruit was there to tempt them and tell them lies
And I was born from the indigestion of birds who ate bees
And bees who helped the fruit multiply for humans to be tempted by
So I, the first human, was tempted and became unreal when the fire came
And the birds saw, and the bees saw and they were sad
And they knew that it was not good
So the birds sang and the bees buzzed and I became ashes
And to ashes I have fallen time and time again
From the fantasies of birds and bees who pretend to be lovers

09/11/2012

Author's Note: http://astore.amazon.com/seedsandweeds-20

Posted on 09/12/2012
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