Adam’s three gardens

The first resplendent and holy, flourishing
over waters, trees with fulsome fruit,
witherless leaves,
psaltery furrowing
the land, a covenant of light and mist;
no want; creation swelling, begetting
in the shadow of white-clifted wings.

In the second, sin sprouted
rocks and spurs; acorns detonate
like grenades; mandrakes scream
bloodroots and tribulation;
serpents untangle from
dead boughs,
sunlight shriveled up everywhere.

The third the garden within
tending memories of rockroses, fallen
pomegranates and sallow sunsets;
olive trees weeping in the wilderness
blood-seared thorns and stargazer lilies
pressed into a crown; God calling us
back to paradise.