We left the garden

 

We left the garden

clothed in our lies and deceit

and in our leaving

began a darkening pace.

We decant through arid places,

a spring, leaving the garden

sweetly fresh and brightly clear,

nurtures green and breathing,

full of source.

Cloudly mixing debris

with each distance grown.

growing with stain and flaw and fault

our pondering stream

draws toxin from its banks

and, growing away from the garden,

shares this new bounty

with the thirsty land.

We grow fat and lazy

laying upon our banks a curse,

a poison gleaned along the way.

Until we splash into the sea

its salty welcome burning

us away to naught.

This is not our home,

this homogenous melange.

We left the garden.