This morning I was in that fairly common state of morning-time lucid dreaming; a hazy point between asleep and awake brought on by a gonging alarm clock. And something clung to my attention, The Perfect Fruit. I remember saying these three words aloud as I hit the snooze button, the kill-the-volume-switch so that these strange thoughts, seemingly out of nowhere, may continue sounding their story to my inner ear.
The apple. Next on the list was the pear. Fruits that provide the same energy they require of the body in processing them. Leaves hardly a trace in its wake, instrumental mostly in maintaining the machine’s memory, cleanly it would seem. Now, I’d actually read such ‘factual’ statements on the apple. Not sure how the pear made it into the mix. I do love pears; so juicy and perfumed, soft and fragrant.
The Perfect Fruit… something tells me there’s more to this energy metaphor. Seamless energy systems, body’s checkbooks balanced supreme.
Maybe I’ll set my alarm clock earlier next go around, leave some more time for half-out-of-my-mind message reception.
Maybe I’ll set my alarm clock earlier next go around, leave some more time for half-out-of-my-mind message reception.
