Cherry blossoms on the tree,
Their scent of sweetness is divine.
There are grapes and berries in the woods,
Springing forth upon their vines.
To pick and taste their sweetness,
Is like none you’ve ever known.
Now I don’t remember planting them,
It must be something God has grown.
I best not eat them all at once,
And save a few for you.
My tongue is colored with their juices,
And my fingertips stained of darkest blue.
I have enough in my basket,
So I’ll go make a pie or tart.
And invite you over to share with me,
What was harvested from God’s heart.