God did not live in Eden,
he only came to visit.
He enjoyed the fragrance of life
pulsating from the paradise,
and claimed it –
for he was God, the Imperialist.
The man and the woman were, in truth,
Children of the Earth;
germinating, they had erupted from her fertile source,
the way of all life in the garden.
Serpentina, the Magnificent, the Queen of Eden,
tilled the soil, and knew Earth intimately.
God, the Missionary, forthrightly
converted the children.
He laid down the law of the land:
“Ask no questions,” he said,
defining the mind’s curiosity as sin.
But Serpentina, the Wisdom in Eden, was a thorn in the
heel of the intruder,
for when she appealed to Eve’s intuition,
Enlightenment came to the daughter.
with unpardonable independence.
In Eve’s defense, there was no guilt.
There was no crime, and Adam never fell.
In fact, they stood and questioned God,
who promptly convicted them.
E. M. Forster, the English novelist, short story writer, and essayist whose work was one of my earliest inspirations, remains one of my favorite English authors. Forster’s creed of life can be summed up in two words, “only connect”, taken from the epigraph to his novel, Howard’s End.
The first of Edward Morris Forster’s work I read was his essay, What I Believe, and his words had a very personal affect on me. It seemed as though I had met a new friend with whom I shared a “secret understanding” and felt reassured about my own beliefs. Continue reading The Spirit of Poetry
“He came with her. Mary said it didn’t matter what anybody thought.”
“Mary’s the daughter?”
“No-o-o-o. Mary’s the mother. I can’t remember what the girl’s name is, but she’s the one that lives up north, someplace in New York. Anyway, that’s where she met that nigger man she married.”
“What? Why, I have to watch everything I say to you, Lana!” Continue reading Down Home Sickness
Church of my youth,
Old teacher, old friend,
our roots so entwined, entangled
deep beneath the sand.
Growing up in the 50’s
was an experience all its own –
Life pulsated with innocence,
and that church was a second home.
We were childhood sweethearts –
the group that I was in,
but the 60’s took us so far away,
we could never come back again.
I wonder though on summer nights,
when moonlight fills those pews,
can shadows from our pasts be seen,
unveiled like hidden truths?
Does “Blessed Assurance” echo still
as that old piano rings?
Do June bugs fly in and out,
while ghostly voices sing?
Can babies be heard crying
above some ancient prayer,
while stifled youthful laughter,
is silenced by a stare.
Long ago in pagan times,
When God was still a woman,
The fertile Earth was cultivated
With a reverence now uncommon.
The abundance of the Goddess Mother
Established harmonious equality.
Life increased with balanced purpose,
Oblivious to male superiority.
Suddenly a flash of light
Sparked a Semitic mind.
A thought envisioned One Manly God,
The Creator of all Mankind.
Divinity revealed masculinity’s prize,
The universal Power of God.
Adam’s myth drew a celestial breath,
Eve’s, God’s afterthought.
The Almighty God and the Earthly Kings
Saw a chance to Capitalize:
The lowly sinner could be redeemed,
If he was mercifully Christianized.
While the Puritan Ethic of honest toil
Fills the coffers of Godly Kings,
The Worker is promised a heavenly home,
If to the cross he clings.
Man knows fear as never before,
Under the hand of Almighty God.
Woman is charged with unknown sins,
As down to Hell they trod.
Once, an archaic thought formed chosen words,
Through the trickery of subtle deceit
And Humanity was eternally duped,
Enslaved by its own conceit.
Anita Stubbs, 1992