Where will it take us today?
This fruit growing within,
Alongside all the cantankerous selfish bits,
Alongside the weariness and the grumpiness and the groaning what-ifs.
What fruit will be produced from this fruit of the spirit?
A moment of helping,
A few seconds of smiling,
A burst of unexpected generosity,
A listening ear, a tolerant approach,
The ability to see both sides,
A mile trekked in another’s boots.
This fruit from the fruit that persists in spite of myself,
Produce of the Gardener always at work.
Light in the darkness, hope in the gloom,
Fresh air in the pollution,
Blossoming for another’s sake.
More than my for own.
Fruit of another kind.
Fruit of the fruit that will be so individual,
Unique, your fruit just that little bit unlike mine,
Though both come from the same big hearted source,
The same magnanimous reservoir,
The same giver of life.