First Fruit

I went to the gods
To the wheel
To the forge
To the very gates
And shook my fist
With yells and cries and shouts of defiance


I left from the gods
To the car
To the mud
To the banality of the mundane
And went my way
With ego and hubris and childish satisfaction

I went about my days
Pushing my boundaries
Pushing my comforts
Pushing my self imposed limits
And complimented myself
For daring to travel an inch out of my way

And now the first fruits of my arrogance falls ripe from the tree I planted
Into my open hand

To refuse it is to mock all I have claimed I wanted

To accept it is to release the safety of predictable banality

If I wait too long
The fruit will rot in my hand
A decision must be made

It tastes of bitter fear
Sweet hope
Acrid hubris

I suspect
As the tree matures
The fruit will taste better

I will find out for myself


Kerian Nox