There’s a lemon seed
buried between my hope
where God lives and feeds
my dreams of endless possibility
It is stuck there, clogging up my throat
making me lose my tranquility
no matter how much I pray
it makes me scared
no matter how much I say
God seems to fill me up more when alone
When leaves cross my path, or suddenly things
to me seem quieter in my vocal tone
that damned lemon seed
and then when I try to speak
it hurts my throat, I cough, my voice
seems hoarse and tired, so tired
And that seed, that seed growing every day
seems to plant a lemon tree somewhere
within my own spiritual belief and I find
myself holding on to that lemon seed
caressing it with love as if to make the evil leave
and then my soul speaks to listening ears within me
and I know the walk’s going to be next to a grand plot of trees
all with hanging lemons and each without lemon seeds
Photo Credits
Photo from Pixabay – creative commons
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