In the beginning we discovered the end

Though you were dusted up from the loose bones
of the earth, I was drawn from the splinters of you.
Myth begetting myth until we forgot ourselves
as trees do. Sway, sway beneath the canopy. We

have no word yet for loneliness, but fear not,
it will all come soon. In the naming of animals
you also named the empty fields, their errant
grasses so graceful not a single foot felt worthy

of stepping among them. The dance had begun
and you and I would stand so often watching
the hollow reed, like a naked spine, try to resist
the music of a morning wind. But sway it always

did. Along with the grasses and the full-feathered
trees. I always believed those trees wanted to be
birds, you only laughed when I told you, but look
at the way those tight limbs still manage to flap

like a falcon's wing. Tell me that everything, every
thing does not once wish it could be something
else. I will not believe you. Anymore than you
will believe I have been conversing with a snake.

Remember that vine? We saw it a sundown ago,
it was slithering around the old oak. It was flexing
its body like a spiny reed. It was pretending to be
moored and turning to stone. I went back at sun-up

and there as the light flared upon its back, it hissed
into a snake. It sought out my lonely scent fighting
a way through the tangle. It reminded me I was
the only woman for miles--or at all. And that within

the dull-pearl cage of my ribs there is a power
not unlike the moon. What is the symbol for hunger?
Ask the serpent, darling. I watched as the tree
swallowed the taut body of the snake-vine, though

it was the vine who meant to take the tree. The moon
within me sits, now, outside our window. It is a cold-torch
circling around the perimeter seeking exposure. Here,
lie with me in the dark-heart of our cornered bed. The moon

cannot reach us here, and the serpent is already dead.
Let the tendrils of your hair spread over the bare plains
of my body and we will grow together like fern and earth.
I will read to you until you fall asleep, Until the forsaken

skins of snakes no longer hold sway over evening or anything at all

Author's Note

2019

Reviews

[gram linski]

I love this poem Eilis, that yearning to be something else, amazing imagery of the trees wanting to be birds, the snake coiling and slithering through the poem,I really enjoyed the way everything flowed into each other distinct, yet blurred at the edges and myth begetting myth indeed, there is a love and tenderness here that shines through at the end, great poem

[Eilis]

The love and tenderness, I hope, can shine through the darker things. If so, then I can believe in hope and other good things. I have missed your comments, Gram. It makes me happy to read them again. The myth doesn’t seem as important to me now as it did when I wrote this but the climbing out of darkness and finding, in spite of the flawedness of being human, there is more than just loneliness—that is bigger and matters more. Thank you for reading and sharing what the poem meant to you. I always enjoy the way your mind turns things over.

[carl]

Captivating writing, so many images evoked here of scripture and love and longing. Interesting structure of your stanza the way they feed one into another, very effective to move the read along without the typical stop start. Enjoyed it greatly. Peace to you

[Eilis]

Hi, Carl, thank you so much for your lovely comment. I appreciate you sharing your thoughts.

[Davey Payne]

This is startling, Eilis.....sensuous and seductive. Oscillates between the insidious and predacious. Your phrasing and imagery is stark and beautiful. Evokes the dissonance between love and lust perfectly.

[Eilis]

Thank you for your kind thoughts on my poem, Davey. I do believe it is a poem dichotomy like the mythology of our human beginnings rooted in extremes. I appreciate you reading and sharing what you saw.

[Vertigo Cat1111]

The story and energy that’s created with your words through this whole thing is amazing. You capture so many thoughts and feelings of just being human here. There’s a sense of loneliness in your words, a sad acceptance. A coldness, but it’s all admirable. It’s that feeling of growing up, no matter how old you are. A feeling of eternity, even. Thank you so much for sharing this amazing piece. Very inspiring and shows us how we can really write our own stories and novels through poetry.

[Eilis]

What a lovely and encouraging comment, Vertigo Cat. Thank you for seeing so much and sharing what you saw.

[SkinlessFrank]

This is a beautiful sadness in this poem. The atmosphere you create breathes the unique aloneness of being human, of how even in our most intimate relationships we must accept that we must always be alone. There is the sad acceptance of this throughout your words, in the way one of us sees a vine and the other, the snake. We even know this in the beginning, but in the end, we just get on with the situation the best we can, sheltering together from the cold in this lonely passage and perhaps fanning a few embers of intimacy into a temporary warmth. I’ve always been told that poetry should make things clearer, even though there are some things we’d rather not think about. This is the reason why your words will go on to haunt me.

[Eilis]

Thank you for your understanding comment. I don’t always understand what I mean when i write things but I’ve learned I should let the words do what they want. The aspect of loneliness you talk about is something very close, yes. The understanding that we are always singular regardless of how much we may love and be loved. There are places we will always have to walk alone. Visions no one but ourselves will understand. Being human is such a strange thing. We have all these freedoms and awarenesses but so often they are crippling or the beginning of our demise. Yet we still embrace those parts of our existence and would feel cheated were we to lose them. I do appreciate your readings of my poems. I always learn something about what I’ve written when you comment.

[Casey Truax]

You remind me that humanity is the lens through which to understand mythology, not the other way around. Things wishing they could be something else is perhaps the essence of poetic or at least metaphorical thought.

I also want to say you are one of the few writers who, well, "intimidates" is too strong a word, but you consistently make me wonder if I am really trying hard enough. I appreciate that.

[Eilis]

Hi, Casey. Thank you for this comment. I admire your mind and creativity so you have given me a great compliment. I never feel I’m trying hard enough, and I suppose that’s why I keep trying. I wonder if that’s in some ways the essence of creative pursuit. Seeking something we might never feel we’ve achieved. Thank you for reading my poems.

[Robert Haigh]

A remarkable poem! Imaginative imagery throughout this fine piece, and the story of Adam and Eve, and mankind in general, and how we were seemingly always destined to be doomed, makes compelling reading! Probably the best thing I've read today!

[Eilis]

Hey, Robert. Thanks so much for your kind words on the poem! I’m glad you enjoyed.

[CD Campbell]

There are many layers of this to dissect. First, the imagery from stanza one to the very last line made me feel as if I had a gods view above a heavy primordial dangerous but ravishing landscape. The beginning in Eden. You paint an intriguing picture of grasses, of trees, of plains, of fern and earth, the moon, of bedposts and bodies joining together, it's all there holding the poem together. The imagery is the bait in the trap ready to spring.

What better way to show how much men and women are the same as much as they are different than the creation story in Eden. I love your line about myth begetting myth as if we are still living in the remnant of that story to this day. The first days together are ones of contentment and pleasure like most true love stories, but the foreshadowing of loneliness is given in the second stanza. The amazing sway of the trees lose a little bit of their luster, we then try to understand the nature of such things by comparing the flapping fronds to that of a birds wing; only one ponders while the other laughs content in not knowing, there the first cracks appear.

It's only natural that the serpent would appear now. There, by the tree, he recognizes the growing loneliness and sees the desire that burns within. That is an awesome stanza. He sought out the lonely heart and made our heroine feel as if she were the only woman for miles. How often do we see that played out? Who's to blame? All involved.

The ending stanzas feel as though there is a great regret. The shining moon within now must stay outside. That reminded me of a lot of things that I had passion for, yet gave up those passions for the sake of saving a relationship. (Even though in the end giving up those things didn't save anything). The last lines of trying to bond again in the dark-heart of the corner bed are hopeful. Giving up oneself and hoping the serpent stays far away is good dream. Sometimes the hurt can be loved away and the dream can come true. I don't know.

Like I said, many layers. Incredible poem, Don. I felt a great extent of emotion in this one. I think it's one of your best.

[Eilis]

Hey, CD, thank you for this astute comment. I’m trying to think of the right word. Your ideas are intelligent and connective but also emotionally understanding so I couldn’t ask for anything more in a reading. The truth of the matter is we are creatures of head and heart and when one or the other is neglected things can go awry. For so long, women were not welcomed into the realm of thought, but that has never stopped us from thinking. We are easily careless with one another and your comment does illuminate how that carelessness can have tremendous, unforeseen consequences. I do wonder if we’d change our instinctive responses even if we knew the outcome.

You’ve seen so much in my poem and I feel humbled by that. I think I tell myself that it’s just me playing with words and ideas because so often these creative parts of us are minimized so that we become accustomed to thinking of them as insignificant. Thank you for seeing deep and sharing what you saw. It helped me to understand the poem better. A lot of what I write is kind of subconscious and I don’t delve too deep after writing but there are comments that make it necessary to examine the poem and come to grips with the ideas. Thanks for your always intellectually engaged and sensitive responses to the poetry. I appreciate the time and thought you shared.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

what a luscious parallel to the Garden of Eden and Adam and Eve ....and the idea of

myth or religion or is religion a myth?
the blessed nakedness covered up because of the sin hiding the skin of humans, drawn from the skin of snakes.
love it.
j.

[Eilis]

I’m glad the source of the story was easily evident for you, Jacob. The Bible stories have been my mind-food since childhood. They feel part of my DNA the way they are so culturally significant. Sometimes I find those kinds of things are the best ones to try to make your own. Thanks for sharing your appreciation.