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.