Fruit of the Forgotten

Branches carry quiet weight,

Lantern-fruits that linger late.

Bruised halos, frost along the skin—

Names asleep and folded in.

Wind recites what we mislaid,

Petals hum the debts unpaid.

Hold it gently, feel the tone—

Every hunger once our own.

Turn the stem and say the name,

Catch the memory, keep the flame.

Fruit of the forgotten—don’t let it fall.

Cradle what was lost and give it all.

Bite and taste the life we left behind,

Sweet with ash and salt with time.

Fruit of the forgotten—pass it around;

Share the color, share the sound.

What we almost let decay

Finds a mouth and finds a way.

Leather skin and amber light,

Pith of laughter, rind of night.

Seeds like bells in sleeping rows,

Chiming soft of what it knows.

Wardens whisper, “Take your part—

Juice the silence into heart.”

Every drop a rescued day,

Pressed and poured into the clay.

Turn the stem and say the name,

Catch the memory, keep the flame.

Fruit of the forgotten—don’t let it fall.

Cradle what was lost and give it all.

Bite and taste the life we left behind,

Sweet with ash and salt with time.

Fruit of the forgotten—pass it around;

Share the color, share the sound.

What we almost let decay

Finds a mouth and finds a way.

If the shadows beg for room,

Let the orchard choose the bloom.

We are vessels, not a throne—

Take and give until it’s grown.

Fruit of the forgotten—raise it high,

Let the bitter turn to sky.

Every hunger, every start,

Feeds the living, mends the heart.

Fruit of the forgotten—hand to hand,

From the tree to open land.

What we save becomes our art—

Shared and beating, part by part.