No Timeline For True Beauty

The view of you sealed the deal — the reason we took the house.

Eddie always wanted a citrus tree.

Through the window, the oranges popped from your green leaves like glowing Christmas orbs.

Oh look— this is the home for us. It’s a sign.

We took residence in February.

No store-bought liquid sugar required.

Your bounty — and some elbow grease — provides abundant nectar for months.

But you, dear one, are our first.

Come summer,

we citrus virgins are disquieted and bothered.

Fretful; ill-at-ease.

Water more? A bit less?

Is that limb dying? Are we losing you, precious one, to disease?

Little marbles of green appear, requiring utmost patience.

Maturing too slowly for our apprehension.

Something is wrong, we ponder, trying to rush life.

Green melts into orange.

And in December, you return.

Glisten.

Instructing, yet again,

the beauty of nature, of life,

is in the not-rushing.

Originally published on Medium.com by Joe Guay, Dispatches from the Guay Life!