Trees are never tired of producing
uneaten, unmattered fruits
They keep repeating the same old patterns
without any excuse
I feel safe and secured
when I tread upon those small
smashed fruits under my feet
feeling their scream of silence
With those small unnoticed plants
They become pride of thousands of gardens of old farmers
waiting to be named and described in a poem
Until that time
they will appear again next autumn
smashed and tread upon again
with timeless joy and hope
VIP Ministry Network 
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