Jess nurtures her trees
wonders how they came to know so much
the growing of sweet expectation
the perfume of fermenting inspiration
she feels Him close by

Spread out across her orchard
she is bound for ever
brave branches strong
enough to bare the weight of life
an internal stauros keeping faith alive

Fallen fruit lies thick on the ground
He whispers - love is the last
seed in the orchard
blossoms listen as she
tells Him the orchard is grand

Crows rest on rusted wires
and remind her how
we only have so much time
that she’s already used
her quota of useless tears

We attempt to keep cinders aglow
one day they may blaze up on their own
like flames among her branches
she has a vision of herself in a garden
a perfect pink Malum apple on her palm

We all just want to be loved in the end
The hint of Jesus in the shape of a friend