The Collected Poetry

Leaving Eden

I

Oh, love, as Eden is crumbling, let us away
I can say that I was never meant for this
But that is a lie, this is my natural state
And thus why compound sin on sin, a flowering
make from a bulb. And so my love to you
is wan and faint compared with days past
can this divine punishment be sustained by
only each other? Let us be true in any case.

II

I blame thee not; I hold thee not any less
by the mistakes I have made, let that unto
the records show! Move you now quickly
Atlantis is sinking, have we any chance
to get beyond the gates before heavens
comet, with ashen tail, strikes the very
places I met and wooed and loved?
I see fire in the distance, the sky caves in.

III

In just hours passed, was it not so, that we
sustained eternally and joyous without bound
lived in a kind of peace, peace of my heart
yet reflected in the balm of the sun and
the still and tranquil air. I was filled with
love, and in a moment love rushed from
me. Was it right that I should be alone?
Why then hast thou abandoned me?

IV

Turn and look down, love, I understand
not fully what today doth mean, and yet
I know enough: we are removed, cut,
Separated, broken, from our Lord,
and this I feel as it had been my limb.
In days past I would regard the airy heavens
this moment I see only dust, for as I was
made from dust, to this I shall go.

V

Speed you know, for we have almost
reached the gates. By then perhaps
Eden will be nothing, crashed and
burned this fiery night. Stop here,
beyond the wall, I turn, I cannot
go back or on! Oh love, the only
home I have ever known, not
Eden, indeed, but God.

VI

Was I ever really favored of creation!
This blight on me hurts far worse
than any dumb animal has ever
had to suffer! But slow my rage,
burning sorrow converts itself
without my will. O God, forgive
that I cursed thy name. I hang
my head again and weep again.

VII

Do you see the dying? There-
the many beautiful and colored
plants shake and wilt and wither
and sink to the ground, broad leaves
shall no longer help, but sturdy stems
return to their very roots. In this way
I have died, the second I touched
that accursed fruit. I am dead now.

VIII

Look another time. See the palace
of our happiest days: it is gone.
The vaulting arches of the palms
the elaborate chiseled leaves
and straight boughs that once held
a peaceful choir of birds are too
what remains now is dust, thrown
up by wind and rain and heaven’s meteor.

IX

This very child that Eve contains
he is innocent, O Lord, this must
be true. I am not him, he is not me
Can my blood be so vile that it
affects even he? I wouldst gladly
wear my mark, but not pass it
to mine only son! O forgive him!
Accept him, please, into Eden again!
X

And there is it over, the last of dust
has settled, the vibrant colors are
replaced by this eerie and consuming
desert. No doubt if I went close
and dug through the sand I could
find, just a relic, an artifact of former joy
but I shall not. Here in the land where
raindrops dare not descend I must move on.

XI

And yet I do sense a certain kind of hope.
It trickles in my breast, yet turns to a gush
as I look heavenward again for the first
the sky is calm and serene, the sun is
at its zenith, the gale force has drooped
and makes a pleasant breeze on me now.
I hardly dare to hope, and yet, it grows
harder to suppress each second.