How To Find What You Came Here For

Welcome to the worlds that populate my brain!
The short stories you find here are the product
of a vastly overactive imagination
powered by coffee and M&Ms.

Monday, November 25, 2013

Silent Garden

It was not meant to be this way

Not meant to be so still, so quiet
The call of birds echo with no answer
A bounty, a blessing, an endless buffet
The table set, but never seated
Fruit falls, ripe but never rotten, uneaten

There should have been movement
Feet rushing over uneven ground
Hands reaching for glistening jewels
Dangling from branches just within reach
Leaves brushed aside by shoulders
The flash of light on a quickly turned head

This garden, this endless paradise
Of spring eternally reaching for summer
Was meant to be enjoyed
Created to embrace, nurture, grow
A celebration of life’s gifts
Filled with joy and laughter and love

The dream of an omnipotent God
Woken to despair by the purpose
It was created for
The irony of consequence
In every unwatched glory
In every unheard symphony

The glory of creation unappreciated
Until it was seen over a shoulder
Disappearing into the past
An undying memory passed from child to child
Generation to numberless generation
A warning, a lesson, a myth

What is gifted can be lost
In a moment of greed, a moment of disobedience
Free will, more expensive than any treasure
Paid in blood, in trials, in tribulations
Each propagation signals the continuation
Of wages earned in that one moment of sin

The Garden waits, silently, patiently
For the return of its reason
For the silence to be broken with the voice
Of beloved life, revered vitality
Light without the shadow of
Lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, anger, envy, or pride

Anticipation unsatisfied, hope unrealized
Acts of rebellion, no matter the size
Live far past their origin
Blocking the path with the debris of destroyed plans
Obstructing an entrance
That has been both hidden and forgotten

Designed for a purpose it no longer serves
A relic of an idea that no longer exists
What was cannot be again
When the piece that completes the picture
No longer fits as intended
There can be no return to the Garden

This poem was my first draft for a submission to Garden Gnome Publishing's Biblical Legends Anthology Series - it was completely wrong for what they were looking for, but I liked it so much I couldn't just trash it.  I love poetry, but I don't write much of itI may have to reconsider that.  So, what do you think?  Did the poem make sense?  Did it speak to you?  Did it make you scratch your head and wonder what in the world I was thinking?  Tell me in the comments!