More than most ever are, we were alive
Wildly dancing in hot ancient moonlight
Naked, we ran faster than angels can fly
It was enough just to love with all of our might
We drank pure droughts of living water’s blood
We let the clay of our substance be stone
We looked at the world and saw it was good.
It was a perfect place in which we belonged.
But we saw the promise of a better life
And the sweet fruits of civilization
We did not know about the future strife
Or hear future groaning of creation
We gave ourselves to the serpent’s black call
The serpent was raised because of our fall.
Benjamin J. Cline
6/1/2000
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