Adam and Eve Again

We could gather at that coffee shop you love

and after a currant scone and a second cup

I could say to you: I’ll be Adam, and you can be Eve

and we’ll run naked through the orchard free

We could relish our innocence fresh and unaware

as we plucked berries and sat sunlit, grass on skin

discovering again what our bodies were made for

and why we loved being just ourselves so

I could follow a slick snake down the unbeaten path

and you could stop and listen to his cues and queries

we could follow him to the tree of knowing

and eat and slurp the juice from our lips and chins

Then we would know and know that we know

and we would cover up and blush and hide ourselves

from our true selves, from the holy within and without

we tumble and fall and lose the gate key and walk on

Later, when grace appears and envelops us as love

we give thanks that we failed and know we failed

we celebrate the necessary falling, the loss of naiveté,

the maturity of becoming, the letting go of became

Next morning we rise and walk out fully dressed

we gather at the café, smiling at our hidden nude selves

and I say to you: I’ll be Adam, and you can be Eve

and you nod and sip and off we go again into the day