In The Fruit Of Hope

Thoughts…
fed like fodder
into the mouth of hell –
cascading
down the waterfall
smashing on the hearts
shattering
below.

Leaving one to think
that they must go down
to the frothy curls
the whitecaps
of the human sea –
with the courage
to wash the soul.

Sorry
is the cleansing seed
when buried
in the fertile earth
of flesh and heart –
then allowed to grow.

Fruition
is in the branches
and the taste
in the fruit of hope.