The View from My Window
The View from My Window
The view from my window is not
of waves cascading on the ocean
or of people walking barefoot by the beach
or of little kids running after each other
or collecting seas shells by the shore
neither is it of a fancy swimming pool
from a fancy balcony, No it is not!
It is a perfect view of
my neighbor's rich avocado tree
from my small bedroom window.
In early June,
When the tree is covered by little, creamy-white buddings
She can only be compared to a big, beautiful cauliflower
Then, one develops to a tiny, green oval fruit
and by mid-June
the whole tree is covered by them.
Still, the big miracle is
when I wake up one morning to a view of
a tree whose branches are weighed down
by full grown avocados.
Soon afterwards,
What is closely related with aging happens.
The first one to bud,
The first one to develop
The first one to ripe,
becomes the first one to fall.
And as with the first one,
the others follow suit.
Mostly one, sometimes two,
heck, it even goes up to three a day
until there is only one left
and she goes back to looking like a virgin again
as she awaits her next season.
I have witnessed the beauty of birth,
the rapidity of growth
the sweetness of ageing
and the swiftness of death
all from my small bedroom window.
I love the view from my window.
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