Adam, Eve, and God

In the cool of the evening, I’ll visit those two.
They’re terribly young, their knowledge so new;
They’ll tell me about the plants they have sewn,
The fruit they have gathered, the wheat they have grown.
We’ll laugh at the wonderful ways of all life,
We’ll marvel to see with the eyes of the wife,
To touch with his hands, to dance with their feet;
We’ll drink of the goodness of earth as we meet.

But where are they now? Not milking a cow,
Not shepherding sheep; it’s too early for sleep.
Where are they hid? Has the goat with her kid
Taken them out? Are they roaming about?
I hope they’re not gone from this Eden so fair.
They’re still my young darlings, this beautiful pair.
Well – I’ll just sit down and wait for awhile;
I’ll neither worry nor fret; that’s never my style.

Has old cantankerous Mother Earth
swallowed them up? A reversal of birth?
Of course not! She loves them more dearly than light;
Than the sun in its warmth, or the stars in their height.
Has one of my foolish creations in flesh,
Eaten them live, or gobbled their fresh
Pretty faces and limbs. It can’t be;
They’re frightened of me,
And they see in this pair
My image so rare.
They’ll love and adore them as long as the rain
Sprinkles the earth and waters the main.
But where are they now?
I wonder somehow.
Has something befallen the work of my hand,
The beauty I molded from water and sand?

Great heavens above! They’re making love!
Of course! How foolish of me to fear something worse!
They’ll come out in a while,
Each of them wearing no more than a smile.
Eve, she’ll be giggling and blushing with pride,
Her man will be grinning from ear to ear wide.
The couple will glow with golden vitality,
Still weak in the knee and hot in the belly.
They’ll gambol around me like two silly foals,
And I’ll laugh with the pleasure of being so old.
There’s nothing to worry or be anxious about,
I’ll just wait here patient until they come out.

But now its getting too dark to stay,
I wanted to see them in clear light of day.
Adam, where are you?
Eve, my darling come out.
Ah here they come now.
But something’s wrong.
The man he is cowering, the woman is weeping,
And what on earth have they wrapped around their loins?
Fig leaves? But, but why?

Oh.
I see.
But who told you that you were naked?
You have eaten from the tree.
I’m so sorry.
Let me get you some clothes.
I’ll tear the skin off some animal and give it to you.
Yes, I suppose it will hurt, but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.