The apple has fallen at my feet, and I have bent to eat it.
For so long I’ve felt unworthy of the fruit. I’ve caressed the tree and whispered prayers to the orchard, but feared the fruit. I’ve seen the majesty of her flowers blooming in the Spring sun, only to seek shade when the time for harvest was near. I’ve inhaled the fragrance of life’s great gift then hid from the flower that brought it to me. I’ve been the worst type of coward; the type who so desperately wants what he fears, and so desperately runs from the very thing he has sought.
Oh, those many days when I’ve held the fruit close to my own eyes! Whoa, those many nights I’ve dreamt of the sweet taste as the juices spill down my lips! A dreamer such as I, lost in the melancholy of the beasts who’ve run him from the orchard, certainly does not deserve such wonders. Try as I might I’ve always failed their expectations. I am not a dancer. I am not a soothsayer. I’m but a poet, frail in my desire to find your rhythm, weakened by the effort to matter in your future, lost in the words I write. The words are the testament of my truth. The words tell the tale of my heart, a heart that truly wants to be loved and to love with equal enthusiasm.
To hold the apple so close, yet fear its very taste is the hell a man must travel before he arrives at the gate to heaven. He must question the very existence of his mind and the very truth of his heart. He must find the wounds that plague him and will them healed. He must stand in the flames of his own insecurity and burn away the veils and masks he’s hid behind his entire life. He must be willing, in effect, to die right where she stands. He must give up the life he’s known to walk the uncertain path and to be reborn again. He must find life in her heart knowing that it is exactly where he belongs.
If you want to know courage, face your fears and bend them to your own desire. Love her without question, knowing full well that you may never fully recover from the leap of faith your heart now asks you to take. Give yourself to her, the one who lives in her own uncertain spaces and yet who also, somehow, shows you her heart in return.
If you want to know true love in its infinite glory, be the man she needs you to be. Stand tall when the torments come, and answer the voices in your head with the testaments of truth that spell her name. Be the lighthouse on her shores as she sails the uncertain seas of her own mind. Know that as you have built the foundation of your life at the hardest bottom of it, she too is building something wonderful. Honor her with the truth, with your deeds, and never let your word stray far from the sacred truth your heart has etched in a solemn promise you’ve sealed in a kiss. Be her lover, her rock, and know that she is all of those things to you.
Then, take a bite of the apple. Chew slowly, savoring the taste in honor of the wait you have endured. Let the sweetness embolden you, and let the nectar wake you from your exhaustion. Be worthy of this fruit, and make your life one that cultivates such sweetness when the spring arrives, and the winter has finally passed on to the promise she has whispered in your ear.
God, more than wealth, or fame, or the worship of the masses, let me live in this love. Let the past resound to its purpose in the wisdom I have gained, and if I have but a few minutes left on this Earth let me not waste them in fear, but rather in love. If I am to live a life minus most pleasures, let the one I am offered be her hand in mine as she lay by my side. Let us share in this life all the gifts You have bestowed upon us, and let us not take any of them for granted.
Then I will have lived a full life, my heart blessed and my soul full of its purpose.
Amen.
