From Beneath the Trees of Eden

From Beneath the Trees of Eden

                                  

I recall the changes of fall…

The yellow leaves of the elms

The red of the oak—the brown leaves of the pear tree

From which marvelous sweet fruit had surprised

And sweetened me and the cherry tree whose

Spring fruit had meant that I would spend an hour

Pitting cherries for pies beneath very green trees

And the ancient apple tree whose twisted trunk

Seemed like some ancient god and his apples

Were golden and seemed more special then the

Apple tree with the more familiar red fruit and

The young peach tree who struggled with our winter snows

And seemed so out of place this far north

22 children lie dead in Connecticut, countless more lie dead

In Damascus…in Somalia…in Chicago.  Did they ever know

What it is like to wake up in Eden where mother and father

Sent you out in peace to pick some fruit for breakfast. 

I walk out and pick up the spent shells

Of the dead ones from beneath the Trees of Eden

And pray that they will restore my soul