Triptych Poem by Linda Hepner

Our bed is like a triptych – we the outer leaves,
facing eachother on our antique quilt
named by the wise old quilter Round the World.
We outer panels show our image to that world
and colors resonate, an angel here, a serpent there, our eyes
watching across the board. Eve hands
a rosy apple towards Adam, arm outstretched, he
stands, ever ready to receive.

He once before stretched out his arm, to God at the
Creation of the world, and only just
missed touching the Divine, he on the earth
and the Creator wondering if Adam wished
to truly reach him, or if he preferred to wait for fleshly touch
and taste the fruit of mortal joy,
unwitting foolish choice, the tendrils of desire
poised, ever ready to entwine.

Between our figures lies the central panel, like
Achilles’ shield, painting all the world
that we have known and seen and felt and touched
and comes between us like an apple shared
but each half bitten eaten tasted in our separateness and minds
that neither can quite reach or read
although as one each half we half believe we will
shut fast, lock out, unready for demise.


(LRH/9.24.07)