A VERY PRIVATE FIG

Figs delight wasps and wasps adore figs
They see her, desire her
Fresh and soft. Luscious and pink. Flesh that is so fertile.
Wasps begin to dance
She draws a crowd and soon,
Groping hands feast.

Many a myth claim fig as both costume and crest
Her flesh is held high to tempt gaping mouths
Wine is spilled, splashed around
Remnants stain the inside of open bottles. Drowned.
Dionysus and Venus hook-up after a drunken night
And regroup, ready, for yet another round.

Fig cannot satisfy all who come to feast
A symbol of plenty, she is private too
Private and magical, is she
Mysterious, exotic, has she been known to be
Hopeful wasps hedge their bets and try their luck
But the House always wins.

The drunkard, the warrior, the hedonist have all lost
For they seek only pleasure, and play to win
It is patience that fig requires. Then, she bestows her reward
Her reward, as she ripens
With age. For ripening, requires it of her.
Only she will choose with whom - she shares her reward.

The fig bestows patience
Do not be too hasty to devour
Savour, instead, this woman. Respect her time
She is private, she is generous
Respect her time, for she is giving you- her life.
Take the time.

Roots that reach back to sun-drenched lands
Bats hover above, rats scurry below
Hungry for her knowledge
She is generous, with her wisdom
And must be cherished
Treasure, what she gives.

Patience is timely, and, she is ageless.
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