Two Adams met in me.
The first enslaved; the Other set free.
The serpent blinded my first father to God’s glory;
Yet Seed of woman crushing his head is now my story.
One man, from a living tree, brought me death;
One Man, on cursed tree, gave me life and breath.
The first man’s nakedness became my shame;
The last Man’s exposure removed all the blame.
One took me from a garden to the wilderness;
The Second turned heart desert into a land of bliss.
The first Adam brought me sweat and tears;
The Second sweat blood to take away my fears.
Yes, two Adams have met in me.
The first is dead and dying
The Other is giving me life
Acknowledgment: This poem was generated when my daughter Emory read to me a line from John Donne’s “Hymn to God, My God, in My Sickness.”