Sunday, September 23, 2012

Eve, Mother of the Living


Later, he lay by me, holding my hand
Under black sky, and asked what I missed most.
I should have answered: the cool evening walks,
Or the bright sight of the heavenly hosts,

The joyful lightness of body and soul
Without sin, our own love when it was pure.
Instead – oh, I miss how the rose hedges
Sang rich and low and the beech leaves answered!

I miss commanding the bugs away and
The trees to drop fruit in my palm.
I miss conducting with a whisper the
Treetops to blow and the high winds to calm.

All this, I killed. I turned away from him
And tried to sleep while the jackals howled.


September 23, 2012
copyright by the author
This poem is the latest in my Jewish Anthology, a collection of poems about people in the Bible. You can read all the poems by clicking on the link in the bar above, entitled A Jewish Anthology.

5 comments:

  1. I love the thought of Eve hearing the flowers and trees talking to each other...
    Thank you, M.K.

    ReplyDelete
  2. This is beautiful....and it makes me sad. Probably should.

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  3. Beautiful! Powerful! You're a poet.

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