ON BEARING FRUIT

The real juice of life
drips from our tongue.
It is the seeds
we sow
within our young.
By a portrait
of our slight of hand
is our fruit
tasted by our children
in due season
as blossoms
for our true thoughts.
Sometimes
what grows
has the flavor of love,
others the bitterness of hate.
Too bad
what we plant
can’t always be a real joy
instead of esteem it will negate.