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IPS Features Staff

International Press Service

 How Far From Eden?

By Mike Mahn

“Which way Eden?

How far away?”

the old man asked,

trudging dusty feet

along the well-worn path.

The young man said,

 ‘Why ask you of such a place,

even if real, for   

its onward and upward we race?’

The old man, paused, and spoke, again,

Looking deep into the eyes of his friend,

“Onward, indeed, for ne’er we rest,

And upward, perhaps, as you suggest -

Farther, for sure, I might add,

And closer to what, I know not.”  

“We’ve come so far,” the youth said.

 “But where have we come?” the senior replied.

“Are the forests more green,

or the skies more blue?

Are the fish more plentiful

 for me or you?

Is it love you seek,

or from it you walk?

Is it hurt you flee,

of which you dare not talk?”

“Now come, old friend,

and dare not look back,

For the past is gone

and we might lose track

Of where we’re heading

and what’s ahead –

Don’t you know the past

 is past and dead?”

“the past is past,

‘tis true, indeed,

You’re growing in wisdom,

my fine young steed,

But where you wander,

and where you trod,

Would be more meaningful

if you gave a nod

To the past, to Eden,

for its whence we come,

It’s the measure of our progress,

and contains the sum

Of all our hopes,

of love pure and true,

Eden is home,

for me and for you.”