I hold the ripe berry and bring it to my lips.

I taste the sun that ripened it.

My teeth bite into it

tangy juice bursts in my mouth,

followed by soft sweetness.

Gratitude blooms in my heart

for the back that bent to pluck it,

for the fingers that picked it

for the hands that planted

the roots that bore this fruit.

I give thanks to the earth

that nourished the roots,

and to the rain that drenched them.

I taste all these as the rich

red essence overwhelms all thought

until there is only the taste of  strawberry.