
West of Eden
A girl just east of Eden
faced west with winged eye
and roamed around the honey-combing
crevices of sky
"perhaps some place
- perched somewhere past these
frightful foreign flights
aloft, just west of Ever-plain,
a nestling in the heights…"
and at her westward window
(which she elbowed as she gazed)
her eyes upturned to paradise
an azure will to raise
so passing breeze took tawny sleeve
led her ledging on the wind
immeasurable vast distances
past paths of common men
her toe rings crowned the barren heads of arbor’s after green
her shadow overcast the cars that circled bout in strings
transcending touch of tainted earth
of machinated wares
- the facts and faxes, factories, turned fiction in her hair
beyond the building backs unbreakable
which harbored no remorse
she shunned and shone
un-mistakable –
her righteousness of course
onward Eden westward went she
eyes of wistful wing
past filthy fields of fallen dreams
to tidy yards of Evergreen
and her passion pawn for passing on
slipped her past the glaring swords
the revolving things that guard the lawns
at Eden’s supple shores
and fire feathered angels
turned blind of eye as she came in
and westward went she far beyond the garden guardians
and there the juice of pomegranate crystallized upon her tongue
and there the down of a dozen doves softened round her thumb
and there the answers allied all the questions of her mind
and there the paint of painlessness drenched her with a shine
but stirring like a fury from a forgotten fairy tale
a truth within her buried
bristled from its broken shell
"This is no place for anchoring
Come, westward wind,
Into my sail!"
and each blade of grass was brandished
for to fight for Eden’s pride
angelic hosts demanded
that she too must abide
and stay her feet to feast a while
on Eden nectar– satisfied
"But I must go westward"
thought she still
"my sight has yet to reach
the outer edge of this insular isle
- Eden’s ridged western beach"
Beyond the plushing garden grass
The thornfree roses, easy paths
Beyond the beasts that bellow hymns
Beyond the tree’s seductive bend
She gazed beyond the best of them
And bounded on – just West of them -
And wind ran from her rebel’s feet
The sun blinked - startled - and the wise moon winked
All Thought was throttled, tumbled and brinked
splashed in vast puddles where the sunset sinks
beyond old rebuttal
beyond shattered sails
beyond logic and learning
and bread long gone stale
beyond light, blight or lesson
beyond legions of priests
beyond towertops and bottoms
beyond mystic bounds and leaps
she bounded unbounded like a comet come home
for the sake of the wish of some gazer below
and westward on westward her vision overflowed
ushered on – by no one -
past Eden she rode
back to the bare backrooms of a world written wrong
the sky scraped by headphones
heavy metal bonds
she came full sighted, silenced
through the thorns on the floor
past flower beds of thistles
up sharp stairs, through the door
and saw a girl before a window
gazing westward quite amazed
- a front row seat set for her -
and Eden upon the stage
draped in tapestries of textiles
metallic props and instruments
was a world enacting passions
with purposeful intents
the symphony of heaven
rose from a pitted place
Eden, but an expression
of an earthen tactile face
she stepped up to the window
and wrote the sky a new page
"Eden’s in the backyard,
for those who care to gaze."

"...and it came to pass when men began to multiply on the face of the earth and daughters were born to them, that the sons of g-d saw the daughters of man that they were goodly…"
~ Bereshit 6:1-6:2
And it came to pass
says Genesis
that upon the earth's young face
man began to multiply
bearing daughters of such grace
that the sons of g-d
from the fiery sky
saw the women that they were good
and took to wife
the daughters of man
by choosing whom they would
thus we, the daughters of mystery,
born to man
but more defiant
challenge the bounds of history
by bearing children
men call giants
the Nephilim
the fallen seed
tween heaven and our breast rest
our milk is of a finer flow
to mingle with their breath
with grace we’ve touch
the passion points
of heaven’s hungry hands
and called docents of divinity down
to shake man’s haughty stand
the princes of the ever-present
have thus invested their seed
to infuse the world with the ways of heaven
through the womb of femininity
thus we’ve born fruits of the world beyond
and if you’re so in need of proof
look upon our children and hear our song
of supernatural truth.