The Fruits

It’s a day we will remember for nearly a year

The day we came down from the mountain
and refilled the stores with grain

There you are in the kitchen making bread
that aroma speaks of care and the stuff of life
dough kneaded and spread over seeds
Boys running around bruising their knees

Lemon meringue and a perfect sponge celebrating and
drenched in strawberry draws then into the sphere
The magic of a kitchen works slowly and builds the results
they do not know the passage of time or the battle of souls

Peace and destiny form around decisions
and they are all the right decisions as time falls into a series of events
that will not be renegotiated

Love grows like a tree but yours twists though our lives like a vine
over the years the wine improved and a testament to a heritage of perfection
imperfect yet a jewel of regard, the branches grace the sky
rip their future from clouds and yet the roots are sound

the wind pauses