The garden long abandoned
Adam and Eve in God's eternal moment
until somehow their serpentine selves
whispered duplicity, desire
into uncritical, unaccustomed ears
and the garden they left for the wilds,
the original preference being
a sad facsimile of autonomy
which had blossomed
at hand suddenly
over their fresh-faced obedience
to the unfolding, indiscriminate
revelation of their Creator.
The garden remains for us today to discover,
the eternal moment ever accessible, apparently,
invited to roam the verdant grounds of submission
beyond its whitened, sharp-pointed pales.
O child of God, the garden long abandoned
draws you irresistibly down the path toward home.