As we move through this life
And glean out in the fields…
We bear sturdy "baskets"
To gather earthly yields!
Inspiration morsels-
Made of select blends;
A bitter-sweet variety
Of what Creation sends.
Into that container,
Go every dream and fear…
Plus moments of enjoyment;
Mixed with pain and tears.
Then "fruition" beckons
For us to lay them down,
Emptying out everything
In this life we've found.
Produce to be victuals
On our trip back Home-
For the "final" harvest
And every soul's atone!

~penned by lynn foust

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