Fruit

Turned away by the potent journey

Pushed by the enigma of tomorrow

My soul reaps pasture of pure grain

Not all affluent with great health

Nor wealth.

The seed planted and nurtured

The arduous motions

Fail to bring promise to happiness,

On the taste of fruit will

With ambiguous patience to heart

Will this fruit have luster?

Mundane life, though, does not

Vibrate the string of pears

Nor the hyperbole agitation,

To be carried like an egg

To be protected like a fetus

Will this, a seed produce fruit.

The salacity of fruit

Only bruise the core

Water with patient love,

Not with selfish care.

The promise is reached when

Life has begun in the hearth

Knowledge of ones own

Will culminate the soul

And one mind will center

The soul foul choices-

-Dictated by the hearth.

The allowance of this

Only created eternal life

For fruits that is borne

At hand.

Fruit