Perception (Poetry)

Nothing stirs in the orchard’s peace
all is hushed among the trees
the roosting birds puffed deep asleep
unruffled — there’s no breeze

Above, a bright full moon peers down
to search the boughs along
picks out one perfect green-lit globe
its frozen body hung

Imagining a planet caught
within some cosmic spell
Moon strokes the apple — gentles round
thin-silver-skins its shell

The apple swells beneath her touch
believes her face a sign
Moon tends vast orchards in the sky
where star-fruits glow divine

Blind faith’s long fingers stretch between
the greatest and the small
while others sleep one eye will see
the last green apple fall