Raspberry topping

 You’re hanging around at the side of the path
looking luscious and tempting.
You’re showing off your ripeness,
the promise of succulent delights.
Millions of years of evolution are strong in me:
I stop, and reach out.
 
Your juices sweeten my mouth and stain my fingers;
your tiny pips are hard against my teeth and tongue.
I stand and pick and gorge without end.
I am lips and mouth at the end of a tube,
slithering through the world sucking it in.
Your deliciousness transforms me:
I am dark red through and through.
 
You are the sun and the rain and the earth:
you take them in and, in passing through, they make you.
And now, through you, they are making me.
 
You are the words of my perfect teachers:
experiences and thoughts passing through purity,
transforming into wisdom and beauty,
offered to the world as love,
available, at any time, as harvest.

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