I was resting, almost sleeping,
in a shelter from the rain.
I listened to it hit the leaves
and into the river drain.
I could hear my husband working
beneath the cloudy sky,
humming as he cleared a path
to walk on, by and by.
- I remember now the safety,
the sweet implicit trust.
I’m clinging to that memory,
and will till I am dust -
I saw the serpent coming
and smiled at his walk.
It was a graceful motion
and I welcomed friendly talk.
He asked me with such innocence
if there was nothing we could eat.
I answered that of course there was,
just one no one should eat.
- I remember how I wondered why,
the briefest, fleeting thought;
then he answered, never shy,
his secret battle fought -
He said I was mistaken,
that I would never die
just for taking my own food
and opening my eyes.
He said I would be like the One
with whom we walked in love;
told me how it would make me wise
like Him who reigned above.
- I now remember urgently
what I forgot that day:
that He, with love, had made me,
I had no price to pay -
I called my husband over,
the serpent wandered off.
I took a bite, then he as well,
and we swallowed with a cough.
We had been so sweet and easy,
and solid as a rock.
Now he did not know my name
and I was eyeing him with shock.
- The panic I can still recall
as we covered up our eyes.
Our “wisdom” was but bitter gall,
and frantic were our cries -
The evening sun was setting,
the rain had cleared away.
Our God came and called for us
like any other day.
I could not even answer -
I was too filled with shame.
My husband answered stiffly;
we both refused the blame.
- I can still see how the serpent fell
to his belly in the dirt,
and hear the voice God used to tell
of the toil and the hurt -
We left that night, our hearts ablaze
with every newfound fear,
hiding in His sacrifice
of clothes to hold us near.
We left behind the guardian’s sword;
his victory was sure.
God’s gentle grace, our shaky faith
the only way to be restored.
- I remember best how we would speak
in the coolness of the day.
He loves me still, despite the break,
and I can only pray.
