Growing And Aging.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

growing up
is to know what a ripe
fruit is,

the skin turns yellow
flesh soft
orange spots appear
sort of
wrinkled matter,

you mellow
down
and exude that
responsible scent
of maturity

that sweet flavor
of surrender

you know what happens
next to
the ripening

you fall, and there is
no regret
it just happens that
way

as natural as
what this world
takes
without question
or complaint

a kind hand picks you
up
your want to be
desired
to be consumed
wholly
is now perfected.