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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