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FRUITFUL

Please the will of our creators plan,
I was a bleak and broken spoke of a man.
I pleased he not for I did not see,
blinded by the mire and smoke just to be.
I took my love to be faithful and true,
the seed was planted, opalescent cream of new.
The fresh crop became the seasons of life,
while the world got gruelling and bitter with strife.
So the weakness to fall for the selfishness of the world,
becomes the focus of this confusing swirl.
The seed was planted against my will,
the root became an unwanted weed to kill.
Now the sorrow and heartbreak had filled my cup,
the choice I had made God did not drink up.
So the pain and agony went on for some seasons,
till God raised me up for all righteous reasons.
Our fruit is ripe and I thank God for the light,
the binding vine the fruit of God’s might.
The forgiveness is given to be regaled with joy,
God opened my eyes towards the gift of a boy.
He suffered the agony so that we may live,
Our faith trust and believing so we must give.
I thank you Lord to set me straight,
from the ignorance and tolerance and all of the hate.

Ronald Jenkins, Florida