Poem

It doesn’t matter how so plain

Or rough the crust may be,

The kernel is what truly counts –

The part we cannot see.

A piece of land perceived as good

And ripe for human toil

May yet prove unproductive

Without the proper soil.

Can we appraise the saber

While still within its sheath,

Or comprehend the ocean

Unless we look beneath?

The sights we often fail to see

And thoughtlessly pass by

May yet be those that satisfy

The palate, not the eye.