Not all fruit is picked

Not all fruit is picked

by Joel Howard

Not all fruit is picked

Not every flower is seen

Not every blossom is bought

Do you know what I mean?

Just because we aren't heard

Doesn't mean we ought not sing

Far from me to decide

Ration out my beauty

Not every mountain is high

Not every water a stream

Not every person a teacher

Prophet, or king

Just because we aren't the "best"

Doesn't mean we lay it to rest

Far from you to say

"I'm withholding today"

Not every labor is visible

Not every smile returnable

Not every love lovable

Not every saying is heard

Just because friends don't come after

Doesn't mean we withhold laughter

Far from me to chide

Far from me to hide

This is a garden of love

Not a market

I am to blossom

Whether or not picked

And if my labor

Is fully unseen

Then I am blessed

Though not picked

This is our Maker's abode

We are the work of his hands

And if they are different from me

What is that to them?

And if I am allotted differently

Can't that be his plan?

Not all fruit is picked

But we still are his plant