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Nut and Shell

 Coconut

Tender as a coconut.

Hard as a coconut.

Light as a coconut.

Heavy as a coconut.

I wish I was a coconut

Today...


A double-shelled, strange coconut.


They call those people coconuts

Whom they cannot understand,

Like tapping on hard rock but not getting hurt-

Like knocking against the hollow

And shaking a bowl of jingling water

That is cushioned by tender walls.


Well, maybe people could be coconuts

They could have hard shells and tender interiors,

A hard crunch but a sweet essence-

I would like to believe so.


I want to know why I'm fascinated by the coconut.

It can't be solely because of its duality.

It can't be its beguiling double facedness.

What is it, then?


I feel like maybe a shaft of light

A hollow for each hard tap-

Tears through the hard door.

An intriguing belt of  adventurous light

Wriggles out from apparent darkness.


Mystery, mystery. That's what it is.

The mysterious coconut. 

It has a shell

But it has a soul-

Shell protects soul,

Soul preserves shell

I would like to be a coconut.


When you tell me to come out of my shell

I will be the coconut


What is the shell that you want to crack,

What is the beauty you want to tamper with-

What is the mystery you wish to spoil,

What is the cover you would like to destroy?


Touch the coconut

It won't hurt you

Relish the coconut

The wait will help you

If you are perceptive

Looks won't deceive you-

So as to make you feel,

That beneath the shell,

There is a nut-

No, there are no two things-

They're one and the same,

Different versions of the same story,

Different portions of a single legacy


So if you tell me to come out of my shell-

It will be in vain

Because

There is no shell. I am the shell, 

I am the soul.

I am a coconut.








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