Frosty Fruit

For it will be unexpected.

It will be out of season.

It will be unseasoned.

Without reason.

Beyond the usual pattern.

Out of order.

So out of order.

Beyond the expected order.

A break from tradition.

For I love to mix it up.

Old bringing life to that which was dead.

For the past shall bring forth the future.

The off cuts. That which was cut off before it could bear fruit. That which was pruned in order to bring forth a greater measure.

Yet it shall not be as you expect.

For you expect that which was left to bring forth the fruit in due time.

But that would be so boring!

To the one who bears this inscription, this prescription, who testifies to that which was foretold long ago.

I am not an ordinary person.

For the ordinary begets that which is ordinary. The extraordinary gives birth to that which is beyond reason, beyond description, far from ordinary.

For I intend to make a meal from the leftovers.

From the off cuts.

From that which was cut off.

For I need nothing to bring forth my purpose. I need no other source material.

For I need no other source. For who shall I refer to? Who shall I consider worthy of commentary?For I refer only to myself. I rely only on myself to bring forth.

For yours is not the natural way.

Take a look at this. Examine what I am showing you.

Twigs from so many small trees. At first bearing no life and no fruit. Barren and lifeless. All looking the same as the other.

Look again what is it you see?

A change of colour, each manifesting a unique colour. Then sprouts forming on each twig. Colours of gold, burgundy, amber, silver, diamonds glistening in the light forming as buds on each twig.

And again?

Blossoms flying down life butterflies upon each branch. Adhering to each, bringing life and fruit to each.

And again?

Snowflakes falling from the sky. Radiant with many colours, shiny brightly with their own unique colours. And when they fell upon the dead twig, each crystallised, yet in the forming that which was usually so hard produced that which was soft. The expected rock hard, ice cold substance, produced the soft living leaf and then the fruit.

For I need no root in order to bring forth my fruit.

I don’t need the right season in order for my fruit to spring forth.

For what I am doing is out of order.

I am reversing the curse.

I am changing the natural order.

I am breaking with tradition.

For even the off cut is put into fertile soil in order that one day it might grow.

Yet I am so far out of order. I need not consult the natural rule in order to cultivate my fruit. Did I not establish the rules in the first place?

People talk of Mother Nature, but you know what is true. For it is my right, my nature that will prevail.

I am establishing a new order through you.

Let’s start with the off cut.

The discard.

The rejected piece.

That which was not considered worthy to remain, to take part, to play a part.

That which was set aside.

That which was put in isolation.

That which was separated from the main event.

That which was placed in exile.

For there can be no separation for my chosen one.

The one released into the flow.

The one abandoned to his own fate.

The one placed before the enemy.

The one sacrificed for his own good, found himself in the palace of his enemy.

The one delivered into the enemies hand, became my deliverer.

The one who exiled himself, could not separate himself from me, could not deliver himself from my plan to deliver.

For I am calling you out. I am commanding you to be fruitful and multiply.

For I have given you the rod of my authority. It is I that will announce and proclaim to everyone that you are indeed my chosen one.

For I have given you the rod of growth.

For I have given you the rod that grows in or out of season. The rod that requires no light, no source, no time, no intervention, no watering, no care and maintenance, no obvious source in order to bring forth my growth.

For there you stand and hold this walking stick, the stick that blossoms, the blossoming stick, the manifestation of growth, the evidence of my power, the proclamation of growth.

For this shall be called “the season of blossoming”

So many colours, so beautiful!