No Eden

                                                                                    for this garden
                                                            you've murmured into existence
                                                                     how should I proceed,
                                                                                        poetically?
I want to promise you the words
                 not yet growing,
                                                 to till soils still
                                           deadened by flooding man,

can I climb into the trees
barefoot on the bark and think long with you
                                                                     about this work,
                                                                  I'd say, maybe no.
For the garden, this garden, to consume and grow by
                  the sweat we offer in our days
it must first trust you and me
                                 as it trusts the blooming verse,
                                    already planted in these rows, that,
                              from hands veteran in toiled work,
                                               hang within reach,
                                      treasures with no map,
what can I offer that?
                                                                                 Let me walk here,
                                                                                   before I climb?
                                                                              No, you say,
                                                                                     no come be the
                                                                                          gardener,
                                                                                      and murmur
                                                                                                with me
                                                                                               what we
                                                                                                      wish
                                                                                                        our
                                                                                                    garden,
                                                                                  our verses, our lives
                                                                                                     to be.