I walked in the garden
I walk with God in the garden
in the cool part of the day
but my heart burns within me
for I know
I cannot stay.
The gate will open, the house
will be empty, and I will
walk away
towards exile and dry earth
to a place of no springs
where the green trees wither
and the fruit is lost
and there is no going back
for the way is shut
and the path that brought me
hither is hidden in the dark
and the place where I passed
will not be trodden again
for I have lost
the light of the garden
and the beauty of day -
there is no place now of peace
of rest, there is only the road
that leads away from the
mountains, toward the cities
of desolation, the places of the
rood where I must stay - angels with
swords guard the backward
way -
and my heart beats hard
at the trial
of enemies and cold, my body
is sore with movement - cities
live on cinders, pits, and ash,
they drink blood
and feed on hearts, the sacrifice
of flesh
and here, with my chains
my reach is small and small
things only are under my
control - I am a speck
on a vast board, part
of a game I don't know and
don't understand, and there is
winter beneath the stars
where we light our small fires
try and keep
ourselves warm - parted we are
from our kin
with the memory of the holy garden
embedded in our bone
lost world
where we will never return.
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