The Parable of The Snake and The Crow

Perfection,
for one instant,
in the forging,
the smouldering fires of creation
and then the first crack,
as the shell cooled,
fracture lines riven deep.

No perfect Eden so,
Adam was a myth,
Eve a wet dream,
only the snake
and a crow were real
and the tree.
Yes the damn tree!

The crow was large and dark,
a heart full of evil,
a blackened soul
and a taste for sacred fruit.
The tree was picked bare
and the crow fled
fearing divine revenge.

The crow flew, as the crows do,
straight and true,
to the yurts and marquees of Xanadu.  there he passed the first seed,
that would turn the Khans to greed.
Pollute governments first seat.
History foiled, Temüjin’s legacy destroyed

And in the garden the snake smiled,
as the crow flew on to Babylon
and there another seed he dropped
that Nimrod’s industry would turn to sloth.
Citizens wild eyed easy marks,
with care and sense for nought,
fodder only for the new god.

On the desert sand
a fox killed the crow,
such is life and so it goes.
The fox feasted on its darkened soul, damned himself to hell,
with two remaining seeds he went,
north and south to sow dissent

And so perfection, never real,
after that first sunrise. Was lost entire,
stolen by a new tribe
who would grasp the rod
and enslave those
who would bend their backs
to the new god.

Eden was lost
not
because Adam made a mistake,
it was lost to the avarice of a crow
and the cunning of a snake.
And the world turns, core slowly burns, paradise lost indeed,
but the earth herself gave up the seed.

© Dave Kavanagh @ daithiocaomanaigh.com

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