Life Between the Gardens
by Amy Peterson
A place appointed, as it was spoken
The earth full, great and wide.
Your hand holding, the breath and depth
Of a kingdom promised.
This life between two gardens
Starkly contrasts beginning and end.
A history carried, looking back at a time
When bodies revealed bare.
Resounding pain and toil,
leave questions of dormant redemption
Lurking among this forbidden fruit,
A bite taken each day.
Between the gardens a light is breaking,
A distressed prayer in the shadow of the olive tree.
An olive pressed to produce light,
Sharing in our humanity.
The already, the not yet.
Ascension breaching an unleashed beauty,
A hope arising in co-laboring.
A severe mercy, a holy restraint.
In the lowest pit of despair
Victory has been declared.
In these eerily silent blank spaces,
confidence clings in a stagnant waiting.
Decay stalks this garden
Yet hope’s positioned in victory,
Resting on a revered truth
For a kingdom has been declared.
Provide space for this cultivating,
Transforming relationships,
Recovering the in-dwelling lost,
a movement towards our divinity.
This gentle awakening
Found in unsteady places
Giving way to a watering hope,
Cracks to be filled as the saxifrage grows.
Resurrection is coming,
A past deliverance — a future hope.
The beauty of the garden not yet,
Eden restored.
