On his back, beneath a tree,
Branches dancing in the wind,
This man—the first man,
Knew his life was soon to end.
Thousands of leaves reminded him,
Of his children… and theirs… and theirs.
And as they expanded and struggled and spread,
So did the man’s sorrows, and so did his cares.
For he was the only man ever created,
Who knew a time that was perfect and good,
And the memories of that far, distant past,
Gripped his heart as nothing else could.
He recalled the initial flash of life,
Breathed into his body-from-dust,
Eyes opened to the very face of God,
Arms stretched in awe and childlike trust.
Lush green was the land that they walked,
Hand in hand in the cool of the day,
God taught the man all about himself,
He was enraptured by all God would say.
God placed the man over all the animals that roamed,
And fashioned a wife to whom he did cleave,
On earth there was never a more perfect joy,
Than the Eden of the man, God, and Eve.
He blinked the fiery tears away,
Eyelids closed as scenes abhorred,
Pulsed forth from chambers of deepest regret,
His exile from the Garden of the Lord.
The tree above reminded the man,
Of the one God pointed out long ago.
“Don’t eat from that tree, or you’ll surely die.”
To this one act did God say “no.”
But then one day the man and Eve,
Encountered a cunning snake,
And directly to Eve it addressed its deceit,
And encouraged that she partake.
Should I stop this interaction twixt
This serpent and my wife?
Could he be right that the eating of this
Fruit won’t end my life?
Pondered on these thoughts did he,
But not a word from him was spoken,
And passively he, too, bit in,
And innocence was broken.
It will be good to finally be
like God, the man supposed,
But his eyes were opened as he chewed,
His sin and body suddenly exposed.
Fear and guilt overtook them both,
Man and woman realized they were nude,
And when God came to speak to his kids,
They hid—too much shame to be viewed.
It was not the eating of the fruit itself,
But the disobedience in one simple act,
He rebelled against God and everything changed,
From perfection to paradise wracked.
The man sat up with a start, and cried
“Oh, my God! How could I ever doubt?!
I broke your trust! I disobeyed!”
Toward the heavens did the man shout.
Sobbing now, what he longed for most—
The voice of God, which he could once hear,
But his talks were traded for prayers from afar,
Separation from what once near.
Then the man’s thoughts fell upon
The human race of which he was first,
And how by his trespass against his God
All humanity was now cursed.
Not all sins were the same,
As the one from which they stemmed.
And yet death reigned,
And every man stood condemned.
The man grieved the legacy
He would leave upon his kin.
He grieved the exit from the garden.
He grieved the original sin.
How could he get back to,
The Garden where they once walked?
How could he get back the closeness,
Of when they laughed and talked?
“I want to come back!
Oh, God, please make a way!”
If only there was one
Who could listen and obey
"Adam" - written and performed by Lindsey Lundin.