Old Testament Lore. Norman M. Chansky
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staggered to be free of him who had his brother slain.
Cain raised the rigid corpse onto his sweating back.
And blood droplets dripped from the skull that sustained the crack.
He walked in sun, he walked in rain; no shelter did he find
A heavy heap of Abel lay on his shoulder and on his mind.
Cain wandered east of Eden, his sorrowing shoulders sagged
With his rigid brother Abel, a burden to be dragged.
Cain shrieked, “Forgive me “every night in terror-dreams.
But Abel made no sound at all ‘though Cain heard explosive screams.
Weary worn at dawn he’d ‘wake and traveled by the light,
And fought off attacking vultures until dusk met the waiting night.
The stench of Abel filled the air, no longer could Cain a morsel eat.
He felt his strength was ebbing and a swelling in his feet.
His back was bent and drooping low when his feet toyed with the sea
And as he stepped into a wave Abel slipped off quietly.
Cain was not aware that Abel had dropped into the deep,
His shoulders sensing a heavy load causing him to creep.
He crawled along the edge of Time although the light was dim
And saw his mother Eve and toward her began to swim.
“Mama, mama, comfort me ! “I’m dying for what I’ve done.”
Cain pleaded with Eve losing another son.
But Eve trembled and turned away, her body in a chill.
There was no mercy for a son who would his brother kill.
Cain’s keening filled her ears and ever lingered there;
On her face were bitter tears; in her soul was deep despair.
For one full year did she mourn;
Then a third son to her was born.
Torrents of joy purged her grief
That had stolen her bliss like a thief.
The Beginning of Evil
When families on earth became more abundant, divine creatures noticed the beauty of the daughters and married them. Gen. VI, 1
When the sons of the heavenly creatures
Looked upon the daughters of mortals
Their hearts pounded with delight
And their knees melted from passion.
They took these daughters as their wives
And from their offspring proceeded evil
But also Forces of good from the Mind of God
Which was the template of mortals.
And forever would evil and good contend.
Fruit of the Womb
From the seeds of passion’s flow’r buds of joy unfold and smile at the world about.
The fruit of the womb ripens exuding beauty unparalleled in the past.
Eve Muses at Adam’s Decline
Eve bent over Adam and lovingly drew his eyelids closed, her own eyes wet with grief.
She drifted into nostalgia. How many tides, she mused,
Has the moon pulled in its journey through our lives.
How many sunrises have there been to bring on the day;
How many sunsets brought on the night. Time deserts us.
Brushing wisps of his sparse silver hair, she spoke to Adam, his face blue with death,
These past few months have been especially hard for you,
Your manhood was stolen; your incontinence, embarrassing; your nausea, constant.
The little you ate came back. Remember how tenderly I washed your face
And changed your clothes? Your cough still echoes in my ears.
I hear each rasp. Then fright returns to me.
Staring at me blankly, you seemed to be asking, “Who am I ? Where am I?
How did I get this way? What will happen next?”
The man I admired has shriveled. Your mind was confused,
Filled with forgetting yet recalling what never happened.
You blamed God for Entrapping us to sin in the garden.
You thought that Seth murdered Abel
And that it was he who wandered East of Eden.
When he came to visit, you called him Cain.
We both knew that meaning had drifted out of your life.
You were languishing in a river of forgetfulness and drowning in a sea of anguish.
I wish I had eaten from the Tree of Life instead of from the Tree of Knowledge.
Maybe you would still be with me. But once done an act cannot be annulled!
Can anyone reverse History?
To cheer you, I told you stories about your kindness, your virility, your passion.
You smiled an empty smile.
How roused you were to pity when a frail horse had fallen along the wayside.
How your hands lovingly caressed my face, my arms, my breasts.
I swoon thinking about how beautiful it had been to make babies with you.
I felt young again. You nodded blankly. Did you understand the words of my heart?
How tender you had been to the infant Cain and later to the baby Abel.
Both drank of my milky breasts. I tingled with joy as they nursed at my teats.
You held each babe in your arms; in a voice like the nightingale you sang hymns to God.
How, frightened yourself, you confronted the wild cat poised to menace our babies.
When they grew up you taught them so much:
How to sow, how to reap, how to tend sheep, how to build, and, above all, how to pray.
How pained you were when Cain took Abel’s life away. You said nothing. You were wooden.
Can any difference between Children of God be so chafing as to justify murder?
We lost a child. What did Cain gain?
Marked by God, he wandered in fear, in guilt, and in grief.
You hurt, too, but you wanted to be with him to soften his pain.
They were such dear children. Heartaches they gave us, though.
They were a crucible mixing jealousy, strife, rage, and, above all, love.
Seth made up for the two of them. We could count on him to make us smile.
The jokes he would tell about the tiger and the leopard.
And he made us feel proud, too. So gentle, so methodical, so wise.
Abel never left your mind, though.
You must have been sensing your oncoming death,
Hugging a dead donkey lying along the path and calling it Abel.
Your eyes clouded