My daughter, I wonder why it seems

you are always reaching out for anything

you shouldn’t touch…yielding to the allurements

of scuttling scorpions, slithering serpents,

your father’s hunting tools glowing in fire-

light. And fire. Some incoherent desire

prompts your grasping fearful fingers. Lately,

when I see your innocent baby

hands reaching toward a glowing ember,

craving its beauty, I remember

my hand stretched out and a feeling–like ripeness

turning rot–as I touched the deep red brightness

of forbidden fruit. How could a touch,

one longing touch, have hurt so much?

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This poem was written by Judy Unruh, and published in East of Paradise, a collection of poems written by her and others.

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What does this poem say to you about temptation? Have you experienced reaching for something shiny, only to find it rotten in your hand? How does yielding to temptation reflect a faltering trust in God’s goodness?