A New-Old Story

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I.

Childhood was a Garden of Eden
It gave me knowledge to swallow

and then spit me out into the world.

An elder now, 50 years later,          
I dwell in my adult-nurtured       

wilderness—overgrown and untamed.

I walk in my very own tangle,

seeking its center—my heart space—

a locus for wisdom to sit down.
Here waits revelation of order:

The tangle as a single rose,

each petal emerging from my own heart.

And this rose is not neglected, but

tended by a gardener who

is my own shadow and reflection.

II.

The red rose in the living room vase

is from deep within the design.

There are more on the bush for later,

And laughter releases their petals

to nurture earth through carpeting—

then rot, mulch, pressing, and potpourri.

One petal is my first poetry book

dedicated to my mother,

recording the best parts of Eden.

A second petal is blogged poetry

that touches on peace, violence,

faithfulness and protest.

A third petal, gosh—so many are

demanding  I see them.  I do:

this new Eden made whole by spirit.

III.

I am food to the earth.  And the earth

feeds me, wanting only insight,

translation and kindness in return.

Translation, compassion, and kindness

feed the petals: old friends, new friends,
and golden rules translate survival.

Is this an old story to you?  Or

are you also new?  Let’s

delight in the richness together.

 (This poem grew with some attention to 

Rommy's prompt Weekly Scribblings #4: 

New Tricks  at Poets United.)

My blog poems are rough drafts.
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  © 2020 Susan L. Chast