Poem: The Cactus

poem the cactus on green background

The Cactus has secrets
How can it not?

Flourishing in sunbaked deserts

Blossoming in desiccate lands


Yielding succulent fruit while the rest wither in scorched bitterness.

Green! Fresh! Alive!

It begs to be tasted.

In a wilderness of nothingness,

Ever wondered how it survives?


Forget the prickles and spikes.

Those are to deter invaders.

The unconscious wanderers.

Protecting the source from those who touch it without enlightenment.


However, approach it with the wisdom of sages and in time you will find out it’s secrets.

Despite it’s color and appendages, there is really no difference between you and the cactus.


Follow it’s spines with clarity

Searching to know and not devour

And you will soon know its secret source




It’s that simple really, the secret is

Not as complicated as you imagined.

The Cactus is like truth.

Stingy, rare, uncommon but necessary.

The cactus is a signal and source of

Life in the midst of arid plains.


The truth is water!


Drink it!

*** Jules the oyster becoming a pearl****

Also published on Medium.