Dragon Fruit Surprise

Journal, Poetry, Writing / Wednesday, October 9th, 2019

Eating a dragon fruit,

with its pink scaly skin and its deep purple flesh,

not checking my phone, nor reading an article,

nor talking to another soul about this and that,

I realised that it was sweeter in the middle

than around the edges, closer to the skin;

that the sun, wind, soil, rain and sky,

and the grower and the picker,

and their long line of family and friends,

and their challenges, pains and joys,

how they perhaps picked the fruit with a smile,

or with a frown,

for maybe something was testing their mind,

and how it all went into getting this dragon fruit,

with its pink scaly skin and its deep purple flesh,

onto my plate for me to enjoy;

and I considered the bugs and the birds

that wanted so badly to get to this fruit,

to grow,

to metamorphose,

to feed their young,

to survive;

and I saw how every seed,

every single one of the tiny black seeds—

and there were hundreds of them—

contained not only a whole world of fruit,

but a whole world,

one that I am very much a part of.



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