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Children of Eden
can’t help wondering
about that sunny place
before apple or snake
a place between rivers
of the past where today
bombs spill their blood
in market places
daily rituals of the East
a place of peace
now paraphrased conjecture
routines chanted in
conflicting accents by men
with beards and prayer shawls
others passing by on donkeys
heads turned, spitting in gutters
and how here in this tiny strip
of earth torn by a jealous
world into fragments where
still some light shines through
host to a thousand dialects
all claiming Eden
as their birthright
how we the dreamers
children of the children’s children
carrying our fruits of banishment
our books of flowers
our science and medicine
baskets of grapes on our shoulders
peace offerings to hostility
while here outside my window
where tractors spray insecticides
on apples from this modern Eden
exports for the unbelievers
there still are those, dreamers
and children who would return
like fools or angels
back to that sunny place
before the apple or the snake
© Johnmichael Simon
2012
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