I wrote this poem several years ago when my family was struggling to accept our daughter's decision to marry a person of a different race -- a family taboo.
Whether by chance or plan
The fruit at times falls far
From the tree and sets its seed
In soil foreign to its stock
It may take root and bear fruit
Of exotic shape and taste
Or wither and go barren
In a climate unsuited to its needs.
Attachment to the family
Tree is strained by the scion
Branching out beyond
The leafy canopy of normalcy
But underground and out of sight,
Common roots entwine.