Parable of the Fig Tree at the Protest

A poem.
Illlustration by Anna Godeassi

After Luke 13:6-9

They said: It bears no fruit.
Year after year, we have waited.
Nothing changes.

They said: We marched.
We signed.
We prayed.
And still, the world is what it was.

They said: Cut it down.
Hope is a wasting of soil.

But the gardener knelt in the dirt,
his hands full of mercy,
and whispered:
Let it be.

One more season.

One more chance
for roots to drink deep,
for the impossible fruit
to ripen in the sun.

This appears in the August 2025 issue of Sojourners