Fruit Unused by Emilia Hardwick

You’ve planted, you’ve sown.

You let the Lord bring water,

And it’s grown. 

Roots first,

Stem next,

A leaf, 

Then a bud,

Flowers and fruits.

You harvest.

And you stop. 

Times passes;

Days, weeks, months.

You’re convinced 

Your fruit, while good,

Isn’t worthy. 

Friends encourage,

Light shines upon the crop

And still,

Nothing.

a new thing creeps in,

unseen, undetected

thriving in the shadows,

spore after spore

growing

absorbing 

rotting.

it’s tiny fingers gouging 

peel and flesh

before it even shows it’s face. 

mold. 

It seems

We continue to grow

Even after harvest

But our choice was to 

Stow

Instead of flourish.

To enjoy,

It’s turns out,

Is the use of fruit.

To deny its use

Condemns it,

And you.

Emilia Hardwick—an artist with no base, but a constant foundation. Her artistry sees no divide between canvas, digital media, or script. The cohesion gives way to stirring, empathetic blooms of creation; spirit and depth fuel her creative process. She finds it hard to simply tie her shoes without thinking through its impact, and hopes her words, stroke, or style causes you to do the same.

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Ordinary Goodness by Leslie Bustard

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Guarding The Light by Melissa Deckard Bullard