Deborah Beach Giordano
© February 14, 2013
I recall another age,
a time of youthful innocence
so far distant
it as if it never was,
in a world utterly unlike ours of doubt and suspicion.
Perhaps that loss of faith
is the original sin.
Perhaps it began
when Eve and Adam fell into despair,
no longer believing that God
Perhaps they closed their ears
on the far side of the gate –
so involved with their labors,
resenting their new situation –
they could not hear the Holy One’s call;
“I still love you, my children! Turn around and look toward Me!”
Perhaps the latch was not fully engaged,
or maybe the hinge was broken,
or the angel’s flame had gone out.
(Or was that bright sword meant
to serve as a beacon –
illuminating the path to Home?)
Was the entryway permanently barred
or were they too frightened
to go back
and ask for readmission?
It is our eternal struggle;
entranced by our own desires,
deceived by our own lies
we twist and turn and entangle ourselves
in unnecessary struggles and endless destruction.
The seductive serpent
who lost us that Garden
didn’t lose his voice or his power;
slithering smoothly along in our Exile,
the beast still dwells within us.