How bad the Fall must have been. If the first cut is the
deepest; how great the gash that severed all flesh. Angel and flaming sword
separating us. The tale sung in aeons. Angel Eve, can you bring us back to
Eden? So sweet and simple we were. Freely tasting all we were offered;
unashamed by the wetness on our lips. Flowing as one.
Why call it a fall at all? Simple bite of the forbidden? So
it’s portrayed. No, rather a spit in the face; fist flung in the air. As lovers
encompass one another; so we were encompassed by our Lover. Was it the flesh of
the fruit I wanted so badly? Oh to know good and evil! How did we not know how
safe and secure we were?
Though I love my fellow man it is easy to see the cracks
and fissures emanating from that first fist flung high. Broken at every
juncture. It’s genetic or it’s the way we were raised. Self-soothing every way.
We can barely connect with ourselves. Our children at war to find their selves.
The line of good and evil flows into our progeny. Children born bereft of
innocence. In search of the perfect meme.
The voice of Abel’s blood crying out, “Can you bring us
back to Eden?” the line stretches down the ages as another cries out. How great
the fall that even perfect blood in perfect sacrifice didn’t set all right
again. Certainly death the most horrible. Yet how harrowing the expulsion.
Aching pain, unrelenting emptiness and a reaching out only
to grasp nothing. This is the pain of the first break up. Producing the fear of
ever giving yourself away again. Not surprising then how difficult to let ourselves
be loved. Though the destination is future we fight healing in the present. We
are scarred visibly from that first encounter. No wonder that we do not give to
the Scarred One unreservedly.
How bad the fall must have been. Eden awaits. We have run
from Eden even as Eden was wrung away from us. Now we are living in this present
place. How easy that first laugh; embrace, and release of self. Bending to
believe it was all about me. How much work to learn to love. To give of self to
another. To come out of darkness. To be loved by The Lover. The fall was great.
The adventure into fulness; reclaiming what was lost; the greater adventure.
Photo by Andrik Langfield on Unsplash
