The One: Poetry


She'd only lived half a life
in the shadow of obstruction,
marking twilight evenings by
weaving thoughts into a journal,
pieces of a transcendent puzzle
more solid than the everyday

She contemplated. 

One day, a Voice asked her
if she was daydreaming,
peering up, she spied its owner:
He was a sight to behold,
Dark hair and misty eyes,
Beauty kissed into the male form. 

He smiled.

"It's my current past time to 
contemplate the meaning of life," 
she said in soft tones.
"Why is that?" he asked, shoving his hands 
in his jeans while the breeze 
flirted with the white shirt he wore

She gestured.

From where she sat,
one could spy a door in the distance
emblazoned with the Tree of Life
And even as they looked it, 
a security guard came out of it
casually eating an apple.

He smiled.

"So I guess the question is
whether or not you're Eve," he said.
"Oh, I already know I'm Eve," she chuckled.
"The real question is whether you're Adam.
Because the others seeking the Tree
all claimed to be The One, too."

She contemplated.



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