Remembering Eden . . .
I pause to touch a rose
and find it clothed
with the tenderness of God.
Remembering Eden . . .
I shudder at death,
an alien invader
come to spoil my sweet garden.
Remembering Eden . . .
there is an emptiness everywhere,
something I miss
pervades the very air
as though God had left me here alone.
Remembering Eden . . .
Christ lived.
Remembering Eden . . .
Christ died —
and across the darkness
of the planet echoed
His triumphant shout,
“It is finished!”
And He arose
remembering Eden
and bringing it with Him.

Since January 20, 2005

©2001 Shirley Anne Leonard
Microsoft® Clipart