Eden

by Cheryl Carlos

EDEN

You sing to me of wind,

soft as sweet white wine

in summer,

You speak to me of trees

that hold wisdom

in their shadows.

You whisper to me of grace,

ancient as rivers,

grown full

with the language of weeping.

And I gaze out at all of this glory—

this outpouring of wonders

that I see and want to taste

and drink down like air

in great desperate gulps.

And still, I run.

I turn away and close my eyes,

and crouch and hide

and linger in the darkness,

as though staying there would save me

from myself.

But You, You cling to me

in the silences,

and tell me stories

that change my soul into an altar.

You sit beside me

in the very place

where I believe

I am lost forever—

And You ask me to return.

“Return. Return again, my child,

And take My hand

And weep—

And I, I will take you home.”

CHERYL CARLOS

Cheryl Carlos was a high school English teacher, a district consultant, and a college publications writer/editor. While she will always be a teacher at heart, now she travels the world with her flyboy husband and enjoys sharing life with her two adult daughters. Throw in several lifelong friendships, a couple of cats, and two delightful grandchildren, and you have a picture of the grace of ordinary days. She calls North Georgia home and her back porch the place to be for good books, warm conversation, blueberry muffins, and a scrap of poetry or two. You can find Cheryl on Instagram @ipad.cheryl and @lovedletters.