sharply pierce the rind
gently ease the zest
from the membrane.
stab it open
feel the sting, the spray,
the cutting scent.
if sweet or sour,
it's yours to discover,
but a bite is required.
share it
with me
entirely.
I am reading The Four Agreements, by Don Miguel Ruiz. If you have read it, please share your reaction. If you have not, there are four codes of conduct explored. Stemming from ancient Mexico's Toltec teachings they are: Always do your best, Don't take anything personally, Don't make assumptions, Be impeccable with your word.
have a fruitful day, Dianne
and here i was thinking about self dissection, getting to know oneself. sounds like a wonderful book, ripe.
ReplyDeleteyes, you too, fruitful.
xo
erin
Sounds like good advice. I like your take on it here, especially the line about a bite being required. (Sounds delicious, Diane!)
ReplyDeletewise code of conduct..a bite is required..i like this
ReplyDeletenice. i like the poem, tis true you must take the bite...i like the simplicity of the 4 agreements, though in practice they may be harder for some...
ReplyDeleteLove that the mind goes to many different places reading your poem, Dianne. Being brave enough to sample without assumption of bitter or sweet...I love that.
ReplyDeleteThose codes of conduct are amazing. Simple and direct and now I'm going to have to pick up a copy of this book. Thank you, Dianne.
Is an onion a fruit? Howzabout a little kiss.
ReplyDeleteActually those four simple rules transate very nicely in this piece Dianne.
I like this... sweet or sour, the discovery of opinion; so nicely posed Dianne.
ReplyDelete__Though I'm aware of the Toltec... four guides of life... unaware of the book you've mentioned.
Rule 1, I try to do my best;
rule 2, I fail, recieving more things
........-personally- than I should;
rule 3, I assume, but before I act, say or
........or write, I varify;
rule 4, I cannot put up with fraud, errors in
........writing can be corrected, here the
........the first three rules apply.
_m
don't know but I like the way you peeled the orange
ReplyDeletewonderful post, the poem made me remember this one, by a Romanian poet, a favourite of mine:
ReplyDeleteAmnesia
by Emil Brumaru
Take an orange, strip it down
Of its juicy fleshy gown
Look into its core so deep
Over which the angels weep
Strawberries for eyes and sleeves
And its wings of poplar leaves
That’s how you forget everything.
it's always so reinvigorating to be here, Dianne...