I awoke by the fig tree to an unlocked sky,
Like an azure break between tall green firs.
Everything was beautiful and fresh.
An autumn breeze glided across me,
Carrying with it all the sharp scents of the forest.
And you were there, too, my first partner.
You gave me a fig and together we consumed
This small purple fruit, like a heart in our mouths;
Like our own hearts that we so foolishly devoured.
We took its leaves, and covered our nakedness.
And we laid back asleep.
I opened my eyes to a cool night.
As all our nights had been lately.
The garden of our love has long since ceased.
You gave me a fig and together we grazed.
I asked, “Where did you find figs
in this winter of our lives?”
You said, “By faith, my love. . .
By faith, the wild fruit can still grow.”
And under the fig tree, we found our hope.
Read more —Jay Bleu @ The Fragrance Writer