Cain is not Able

 

If you watched closely, as the mother and father had, too see the seed that planted deeply into the fertile soil of Eden had brought forth the tree that brought forth the beginning; there too you may have seen a narrow stream rich with life, filled to the brim and feeding at mouth a small shallow pond. Shallow yet deep, small yet designed to hold all of life itself. It was here within this small vat of womb, that if you were to truly see, you could have watched as new life sprung from nothing, a glint thought and the tiny explosion mocked of creation floating just below the waters surface. It was a faint hum resonating as a memory, the same fire racing into existence that the father noticed first. Adam then Eve now you, the only other to hear the faintest voice ring out, to see the tiny hands grasp to hold on to the moment of mans first creation. 

You can watch now just below the surface, the pond sending up ripples to fill your vision, the world a pinpoint in slow motion, ears peaked to hear the true beat, the blood flowing through that which will flow through child and back. See as the womb cradles the life, part Adam, part Eve, mother and child growing as one yet separate.  

The Mothers thirst beckons as she maneuvers her roundness toward the streams edge, her silky long hair drawn carefully over her full bosom revealing the tender vessels through which new life will feed. It is here that the pain becomes unbearable. 

As she dips her hands deeply, the water rushing between her fingers, the child strikes a match and ignites the pond in flame. Eves pain explodes. It is these screams that still linger echoing into eternity in silence.

If you had the eyes of this child, the one who learned to swim up stream, you would have seen the face of the Father meet you at its edge, the first words spoken: “Qayin”.

It would have been years you lived, your hair grown like the wheat in your field to over abundance, alone with the mother and father for decades it seemed before the spark again would return to bless you a companion.

It was Cain who ran from stone to stone along side a brother companion. He who you would have seen in field, sweat and dust caked across his brow, while Abel tended, even at his youngest age, the stock of life that fed the happiness they felt. You would have seen the bond they shared.

But it is here as the tiny spark began to grow that Cain laid his ear to the pond of giving and spoke to his little brother the same words he would repeat with tears those many years later as his feet took him east and east of Eden:

“ My brother we are but one, what you feel I feel; when you cry, my eyes too see the water filling my cup overflowing in emotion. When you are joyous I will be proud and come to you with open arms to share this joy. 

“No matter the acceptance the earth may show to you, I will always be there, to lift you up, to hold you with all my strength, to put you gently at rest, for you are my brother. I know not the joys or heartache we may share, I know only that these things will change me forever for you are mine and I am your keeper.” 

The End

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