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You, O Yah, plucked me from
Your favorite apple tree.

You, O Yah, washed and polished me off.
You took away my sin
You took away the pain and suffering.

You, O Yah, split me wide open
to examine me further

You, O Yah, saw some worms growing
inside of me. You took them out.
then washed me whole again.

You, O Yah, then took out my seeds. You carved out the inner core. You took away my anger, my jealousy, my lies, my deceit, my cries, my pleas. You took away every unclean part of me.

You, O Yah, then tested out Your first fruit of the season. It was bitter to Your mouth. You did not test every part of me. You did not spit me out. You swallowed and thought "I must wait a little longer."

You, O Yah, set the rest away with Your lemon juice, Your Torah, to keep me from rotting.

I could not understand it! O Yah, my Master, my Elohim, was I not sweet? Was I not ready? Was I rotten? I cried but then I understood. I, too not wait.

I am still the Unripened Fruit.