This poem describes the annoyance of the Fall of mankind, though connecting it with thoughts more abstractly personal. Enemies lurk everywhere in the darkness, while each moment of life seems to confuse and ruin. Yet there is one who seeks us. The meter is imperfect, so it has to be read slowly, without great expectation.
June 30, 2007
Night shades lurking quietly,
mere shadows of the Fall. Diversions smirking silently
with the tippest toe of all. Attacked without a warning,
'twas no obvious assault. I should have watched more carefully;
my demise is my own fault. To be cast without a Seeker
is a fate I cannot bear. Ev'ry moment grows me weaker;
seems I'm crushed beyond repair. Whistle blow and stop the line I'm in,
all the faces look behind. Gold Seeker calls me from my sin,
says "You are my greatest find!" Flowing water, shiny ripples in His hand,
washing darkness from my soul. Out of line now, for He cut the band,
dosed me freedom to the full. No longer fear the garden's shades;
don't bend knee to do their will. Sure their call is strong, but all fades
next to One who's stronger still.