Garden of Eden

There will come the time when your bones turn black

in the fire of the ages all covered in dust,

and your heart will leave your skin in a flurry of roses

whose ears will grace the many faces of God.

Time itself will cease to exist then

when you find yourself riding an airplane headed nowhere

when your mind seems violent like turbulent brown iris,

when you reach heights you never intended to be

and you will die.   

Do not bury the lover who made you in December

and do not put aside your final days of Sabbath 

because your temple is bleating

like the sacrifice on stone you are

like the lamb fell on wormwood. 

 

On your final days, taste the soil 

all scented in clovers,

with your finger and tongue.

Run your fingers across your chest,

feel those branches underneath

that emboss your skin. 

Breathe and thank the Lord  

they once bent for you.

Reviews

[symmetryAsymmetry]

I would have thought this one is about creation and how perfect and motherly nature is, with the reference to new birth and how nature gives us tools to protect ourselves, like bones protect our lungs...but the title points at something I can't see and I can't make up my mind...
Whatever it is, it definitely is intriguing and pretty.

[Solomon]

#Afterglow, you understood the meaning of this poem fully! Thank you for the review :) I love getting reviews haha

Also, the title of this poem was my attempt to imply that the human body is not solely biologically perfect, but also artistically perfect-- we aren't just bodies, we are 'dancers.'