Fruits

Gifts, what are they,
  are they something we give,
Or are they given to us?

Do we see what can be,
  born out of ourselves and
Then given to another?

Thinking with an
  abundance which does not
End, only begins again?

They are not visible,
  or tangible things, instead
They are the ones within.

Meant to well up,
  spring forth, feed others,
Given in love's bounds.

Because we cannot
  give gifts in hate, it
Doesn't work, it is only...

In the quiet land
  of discovery, with patience
Where we see what can be.