Not all fruit is picked

Not all fruit is picked
by Joel Howard

Not all fruit is picked
Not every flower is seen
Not every blossom is bought
Do you know what I mean?
Just because we aren't heard
Doesn't mean we ought not sing
Far from me to decide
Ration out my beauty

Not every mountain is high
Not every water a stream
Not every person a teacher
Prophet, or king
Just because we aren't the "best"
Doesn't mean we lay it to rest
Far from you to say
"I'm withholding today"

Not every labor is visible
Not every smile returnable
Not every love lovable
Not every saying is heard
Just because friends don't come after
Doesn't mean we withhold laughter
Far from me to chide
Far from me to hide

This is a garden of love
Not a market
I am to blossom
Whether or not picked
And if my labor
Is fully unseen
Then I am blessed
Though not picked

This is our Maker's abode
We are the work of his hands
And if they are different from me
What is that to them?
And if I am allotted differently
Can't that be his plan?
Not all fruit is picked
But we still are his plant

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