Eden's Ashes -- Metamophosis Literary Online Gazette

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Date Posted: 10:02:27 07/18/00 Tue
Author: Daffodil Angel
Author Host/IP: spider-wq063.proxy.aol.com / 205.188.200.183
Subject: Eden's Ashes

Oh, sweet old foothills
Are you my Garden of Eden?
Great friend of mine
That way you always glisten
It would be so great if we could live for all eternity together

Then the dawn rushes in
The economy�s power surges
A tree cut down, an estate built
Miles of land are being paved over by businesses
If you could hear the wind, you could hear the earth start to cry

Now my Garden of Eden is falling to ashes
Won�t somebody come and help me resurrect her?
And meanwhile colorless people elsewhere couldn�t even hear that whole whizzbang
Can�t somebody hear Mother Nature cry?

These fruited plains
In which sunflowers grow with the wheat
Has turned into
A vast frumenty factory
For the first time in my life, the wheat tastes bitter to me

There was this woman I knew
Who created many gardens
Only to see her prized works
Be replaced by condominiums
Now the garden in her heart is left waiting for the rain

The ever-expanding economy acts just like a neverending zapateado; rhythmically snapping parcels of land, piece by piece, day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, second by second, until the end of time

Precious prairie dogs
Sleeping innocently
Were fed poison food
By Celestial Seasonings
I can�t believe they could do such a thing to them!

Beautiful sapphire horizon
Which I once always saw
Is being painted over
By pastels of smog
Every day I see less blue, I think I�m getting a case of tritanopia

And I always look around the meadow and I could see
Camellia cherubs heavenly wings stained with charcoal smoke
Why can�t we just leave Mother Nature alone?
Why can�t we just be thankful for what we have?

Out into the distance, I could see the economy always do something new
And then that�s when it all dawned down on me
I think, �No, no, this is not the Garden of Eden, it�s all in my head!�
But I will always follow the lodestar to the real promisedland
I am�

Copyright 2000
Noah Eaton
7/18/00

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