allahu.cipher

Staggering rows of pomegranate trees
Drunk from invasions of bees and wind
Impregnated worlds, each and every one.
Fruit dangles on their branches
Black and shadowy, each teeming with
Ten million embryonic planets
Every one of them spinning, compressed,
An assembly of ten million more
Waiting for that inevitable slice
When they’ll surge forth to alter
So many foreign soils with their seed
Instigating fortuitous terrains to come
Demanding sky, summoning soil
Forcing the convergence of a new grove.