The Fall in Eden

I found Eden after treading water in the middle of a stream,
alone far, from my home,
Above me, unfamiliar willows frame the way, I almost
swam to the land, I almost
didn’t cross the rapids,
the high rapids that grooved at a lazy river’s pace, someone
painted the water a pale cerulean blue
with white foam trapped in slow circles
after the fall, like soda fizz or gurgled mouthwash
stranded in a washing machine.

On the other side of the rock drop,
a vast sea of still water waited for me,
with calm bodies of people celebrating the blue,
their arms dancing, their laughter silenced by the fall.
all our eyes ascended to see the mystic monster
who towered us by hundreds of feet,
with every inhale, a new stream was born.
its mist softened my skin as it touched my face,
the sun behind it gave golden light
to this hidden, hypnotizing bath
the bath that could wash away my thoughts.

I drink the blue and it is the first sip after a night of heavy drinking,
after that moment when you spot the top of the Sam’s **** after the climb,
after a fast dance with a new stranger,  
communion.

If I could go back to this place of wet wonder,
I would do anything just to die.