With Augustine in Another Man's Garden

I was there with Augustine
Shaking the branches of the pear tree,
And as we shook, each pear fell
Like a tear from Christ's own eyes.

No, I can't tell you the pears tasted sweet
Like Eve's own plunder in the garden,
But that wasn't the point. We took
Because they weren't ours to take.

Our laughter rang out in the violent night
As we tasted the bitter fruit
And loved it. The swine too thanked us
For the stolen fruit, the fruit of another man's labor.

Yet now, I think back to those ignorant years
With remorse for the blood I shed; it seems
Each day brought new pleasures to indulge,
And ever sin drove another nail into Christ's hand

I thank Him because I will not be there
Among those who will drink the wrathful cup
Pressed from grapes of God's anger,
Reserved for children of sin, unrepentant.