The Garden

Made above, to steward all creatures,
sapience, wisdom, your Image our features.
Self-aware and open always to You,
no Temple curtain, divinity in view.

Man and woman, made for communion,
mutual self-gift in perfect union.
Complementary halves of supplementary whole,
a crowning addendum in our regal role.

Naked in the beginning, without shame,
innocent and transparent, life before blame.
Your image reflected in us, Creation made holy,
we were unadorned, yet imaged You solely.

Darkness whispered, innocence was lost,
Man and woman, now ashamed, paid the cost.
Shame entered our experience for the first,
misplaced affections became our sinful thirst.

Our bodies remained good but broken,
marred images remembered the love first spoken.
An inclination to sin found in concupiscence,
yet still our prayers climb to God like incense.

All creation cries out for a Saviour,
and His love for us never did waver,
through mountain and valley He remained true,
waiting for the day He'd make all things new.

For glory our bodies are destined,
God's will now fulfilled, once questioned.
Even in the throes of sexual union,
we find signs of the ultimate communion.

Man and woman joined in sacramental sign,
in God's plan, heaven and earth align.
Some choose to give themselves to God alone,
both self-giving love for the Lamb's throne.

He appeared in locked rooms, to hundreds at a time,
whatever the mystery, our new bodies will be sublime.
A garden of many flowers, each lending their sweet scent,
by grace, our new bodies too will go where the Son went.