Eden

We have never looked on Eden—
it was gone before we woke,
but we'd swear that we have seen it
in the words our fathers spoke,
in the kindness of our mothers,
in the bread we daily break
or receive from one another:
Eden, every bite we take.

There are days when we remember
that our lives are built on sand,
walking always in the desert,
looking for the promised land.
In the daily thirst of dying
we recall those living springs;
hunger speaks of satisfying:
Eden touches everything.

Though we can't go back to Eden,
still it flavors all we do;
with the savor of your kingdom
where we find our life in you,
for the seeds in Eden planted
blossom out into a feast.
From the harvest you have granted
we will finally sit and eat.

Les très riches heures du duc de Berry, Folio 25v, By Limbourg brothers - IRHT-CNRS/Gilles Kagan - Bibliothèque du château, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=108858