Eve Opens Her Eyes

Eve clears her ears and shakes her head.
“I need to explore this new place,” she says.

She calls to the beasts that he had named,
weaves fingers through the lion’s mane,
peers at the turtledove’s nest of bliss,
skips to the river to count the fish,
then plucks some olives, grape, and fig
savors the juice, and spits out the twigs.

Adam stands sentinel, shifting feet,
telling her what to and what not to eat.
He hopes that something in her rib bone
will whisper the good of not being alone.

Under the tree, God’s serpent glides.
The offer that he’ll tender cannot be denied.

Ruth D. Handel
Scarsdale, NY

© 2003 Women in Judaism Inc.