The Garden—The Original Heaven on Earth

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The garden, the original Heaven on earth.

Where every moment of every day was Heaven—

touching earth.

These glimmers that I search for—

they were everywhere and always and nothing but.

The garden, where things got a little bit blurry,

and then they just went dark.

Where the veil between God and man was weaved—

and separation from all that is good and right and beautiful began.

The garden, where there’s digging and sowing,

planting and weeding.

Where pruning and pulling and pressing bring—

the best fruit, the most beautiful flowers.

And the crushing…oh, the crushing.

The garden, where Jesus sweat blood,

begging God—please take this cup.

Crushed, poured out, where it all began.

Determined to bring us back in again.

The garden, where His empty tomb now lay.

The veil that was stitched together

amongst the trees, now torn—

gone away.

Moments still often blurry,

but no longer absent.

Look for them, they’re right there,

blooming—transcendent.

The garden,

where we’re asked to live our lives—

In real time,

and given the invitation to play.

Please, I pray—

don’t pluck up the reeds and the grasses

just to spend your time weaving simply

another veil for another day.

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