By Their Fruits You Shall Know Them

By Their Fruits You Shall Know Them

Not by the bloom of silver speech,
Nor robes of power worn with grace,
But by the roots they plant beneath—
The quiet truths that time will trace.

The orchard does not boast or plead,
Its branches heavy speak instead;
A life once sown in silent deed
Will bear the fruit that long was fed.

The tongue may charm, the mask may shine,
But storms will strip the branches bare;
And when the harvest shows the spine,
The soul is seen in what grew there.

One tree will give a bitter yield,
Though cloaked in blossoms sweet and wide,
Another, though in rocky field,
Will bear with love its truth inside.

So walk not by the gleam alone,
Nor trust the words that pass like wind—
For what is reaped is what was sown,
And fruit reveals the root within.