He put a name on me. Adam did. Like he did with the four-footed things and birds. Mr. Know-it-all. God didn’t tell him to do that. Eve, life-giver, made out of man, like some sort of piece of equipment at arm’s reach.
Well I can be persuasive and enticing. Proved that. And God said that this birthing thing would be my department. Out of the Garden now. Trying to keep it all together.
Wonder when we will stumble upon how this birthing comes to pass. Still waiting to hear from God on that one. He doesn’t seem to be around as much these days. Since we exited the Garden with all those tears.
And my Husband isn’t always the bright light. Made out of mud you know. Will have to return to it with the sweat of his brow. And there are thorns there. Never saw the thorns in Paradise. Lots of exquisite ferns, palms and vines.
And since the Garden I have doubts. About Adam’s reliability. About the changes that are coming now. About God’s disposition toward us. About who that snake really was. I’ll have to take best advantage of the tricks in my hand…and that takes me back to that thing about reproduction. And death necessitates the process.
Adam looks at me differently now. And in my sleep I hear of names myself…Delilah, Helen of Troy, Medusa, Cleopatra, Lady Macbeth, Elizabeth Tudor, Marie Antoinette, Alexandra Romanov, Scarlet O’Hara…
Who are they I wonder?
(* See Genesis 2: 19-23)
Doug Blair, Waterloo, Ontario