A place, secure, or so we dreamed,
a place of safety from hurt,
was where we dwelt in innocence
while that external, other world
of chaos seemed so far away.
No single doubt intruded on
our reverie: we were in step
while all the rest had lost their path,
blind stumblers, fools of a kind.
Ours was a paradise like Eden,
where every jigsaw piece could fit,
where nothing might disturb or harm
or sully our tranquility
and there we fell asleep and dreamed.
The day the Serpent came
was just an ordinary day
without a hint of danger.
The creature took us unawares.
All changed.
Whatever framed our world was split
and, in a careless moment, we
awoke to find ourselves
not free.
Richard Fleming
