Certainty of the Orchard

Not count coins with clenched breath
Or stare at ledgers like riddles to solve
The orchard has bloomed
Though not all fruit is ripe
But each branch bears what it must
I’ve run the numbers front and back
Twisted the compass and strained the maps
But now I see
Some paths don’t need walking
Only waiting
A policy at fifty-three
Another at fifty-four
They wait for me like rain in a sealed jar
Even if no more cheques arrive
The roots are fed
And the leaves still green
Freedom was once a fragile dream
Is now a train that’s already left
I’m aboard and dozing gently
A book half-read on my chest
So I sip my tea
I water my thoughts
I write poems for no one in particular
And I tell no one
But those who can hold it tenderly
That I’ve made it in time
The winds still shift
Markets still swell
But none of that matters
When the ground beneath
Has already promised fruit
— 10/06/25