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Seeking God at the intersections of

    Truth    

         Beauty

&

Alex Kneen

The Scales


I wrote this poem as I felt the pull of life and death in my own heart, a meditation on the two trees in the Garden of Eden.


The Scales


Where ignorance should plead in my defense

I judge by sight and taste and green desire

And on that bench cast off my innocence

As if, by stature, I should reach the higher

To vainly pluck fruit from this deathly tree;

Deciding between death and sweeter death

Though death with life will ever disagree

And every verdict circumscribe my breath.

The scales, when laid with dust, will always rise

When glory weights the balance on your side.

Though double knowledge dims my fleshly eyes

Your pardon, won by death, my death denied.

Now, from the tree of life, you freely give

So dust, in you, might somehow rise to live.

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