Fruits of Eden

by Carolin Messier

In a two-toned landscape of golden grass
and shades of steely gray,
three red apples shine at the pavement’s edge
like flashing lights called in response to tragedy.

Fallen from Eden’s tree onto my path
from paradise to hell,
these three are truths: loss always follows love,
grief always follows loss, and love then follows grief.

But not always, the third is only true
if we pluck green fig leaves
as plates for cheese, and not to cover shame
for our raw nakedness, strength, and depth of feeling.

We come into the world unclothed,
and as babes cry unashamed,
it is the gift of our humanity to love and lose and grieve
so we may love again, return to Eden: home.