The Garden

The world is new

At least as I know it

The grass green, sky blue, oceans wide, and all for you, I’ve talked to the moon and sang to the stars

Like Adam to Eve, seeing and thinking of you is like staring at a piece of me

My greatest parts, though at times battered and bruised are still as strong as the once forbidden fruit that I now know as love

Sent down from above, it’s potent juice runs through us as my own blood

Yet there’s no pain, only bliss, from your lips I kiss the rain called tears 

Without fear, for the fruit could only grow in the presence of both my light and your cries now love is the air

And I pray to the man up the stairs that heaven only has to be half as good as the garden as long as you’re there

And when the serpent calls I’ll love even harder for he will not take from me that which grew after all this time

And he can produce no greater fruit than the the one picked for me, that I’d be blessed to call mine 

For God did not banish me to the desert or punish me with snow

He made me sacrifice myself so that with you a garden could grow

And as the world turns and twists, and time opens and closes I pray only that the next life feels just like this

For out of prior pain comes this delight that I look around to see how far and fast our garden grew 

And now nothing in this world feels more right, and for that, I love you