Away From the Orchard

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,
Yet I doubt, somehow, you’ll become another me
You are my flesh and blood, yet bear your father’s eyes
A child of divorce, a vessel of compromise

I hope you make mistakes, yet learn from all of mine
Know that wounds are healed by something more than time
Pleased to feel the wind and the absence of the rain,
Know that life has more to teach than the weathering of pain

As for fallen apples, my tree was on a hill
At once, I started rolling (I fear I’m rolling still)
A journey never finished, a cricket never caught
I appear to keep on rolling, rolling until I rot