AFTER THE EXILE

After our exile from that holy place,
It seemed that every stony, thorn-bound path
Led back to the high wall and flame of wrath
Implacably convicting us of sin.

And one day as I wandered, questioning
The reason for the Tempter and the Tree,
If knowledge were so high a good, and we
Created to aspire, who was at fault

That we had fallen? Could it be, the thought
Of our being like Him had called forth His ire,
Caused our expulsion by the sword of fire?
Would nothing ever bring Him to relent?

Each day now brought new errors to repent:
Self-centeredness, demanding from each face
An image of itself; and new disgrace
How favor shown to Abel bred Cain's hate. . . .

Again I saw the Angel at the Gate.
His face shone like the Sun. I stopped, in doubt
Whether to go or stay. Then he held out
His arms to me and said, "May I come in?"

And I was opened to receive God's grace.


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