We were created
To cultivate
And consume
The Fruit of the Spirit

Enjoying it
Is like being
Back in Eden

We are starved
When we don’t get it

We hate ourselves
When we don’t produce it

We are so desperate for fruit
We will fake it
With counterfeit
Counter-Fruit

Sex. Drugs. Rock-and-Roll.
All good things
In their place

All toxic
When we seek to use them
To fill our hunger for
Love. Peace. Joy.

Work. Family. Church.
All created by God
All the things
We are called to create

All become idols
Slave drivers
Murderers
When we produce them
Out of our need
Rather than fulness

What does it mean
To crucify our flesh?

What does it mean
To live by the spirit?

How can we learn
To take up our cross daily?

I don’t know.

But maybe
We can start
By meditating
On the cross of Christ

Maybe we can dwell
On the intolerable agony
Of Gethsemane

Maybe if we stare
Into the Eyes
Shaded by thorns

Maybe if we cling
To the Hands
Pierced by nails

We can at least learn
To tell the real thing
From the Counter-Fruit