Return of Eden.

This husk for thoughts, this pod for wits,
this disseminater of the pits
shouldering within to its goal
the uncomplaining, unknown, soul.
 
In symbiosis with the flesh
in waiting, ordure, earth refresh,
the hidden thing within on death
released, becomes God's lost breath.
 
From leaders all comes this cry
copulate quick, before you die,
produce air, no less, for the Throne
and fertilizer from your bones.
 
The Earth, for bloom, and God for sigh
wait patient for freed souls to fly,
to bring Him back His long lost, laboured, breath
and She her Eden on our death.