Genesis 3.5

Down by the apple tree, the birds chirping and the sun shining, wind whistled hymns of love and peace.  The river swished around pebbles and the leaves twirled in a carefree dance, the land alive and souls singing.  The entire world moved with such gusto, more action occurring than in Da Vinci’s supper.  I slumped against the trunk, the hard still bark sturdy.      What are you doing?  Get up and go play with the river.  Sing along with the wind.  Adam can do it.  But the noise of the earth began to ring in my head, and the overbearing shouts struck stomach sickness deep.  I prayed hard back, but His only answer was to saint my way through it as if this pain didn’t exist, didn’t matter; as if I could suddenly love the yelling and dance like a fish.  As my first tears of frustration fell, a gentle soul slithered next to my leg, and I started as he met me with curious eyes.  I saw in his gaze a similar detachment, a similar struggle with just simple living.  He rested his scaly jaw on my leg softly, and for once the shade of loneliness dissipated and the blue of the sky wasn’t so painfully bright.