Silver Tree & Crimson Flood

Here I am.

Trapped.

In a cage.

Nowhere to run.

This room,

With its gray, musty walls

Closes in on me.

And I'm afraid.

Nowhere to run.

Where can I go?

Who can set me free?

It's my own guilt that holds me here.

My own sin,

My own fault.

The Master knows,

It's my fault.

The garden,

Oh how beautiful it looked!

With golden flowers,

Silver dewdrops,

Gushing streams.

It was perfect,

A place of bliss!

But now my heart breaks.

How I long to return,

To open the gates,

To dance with leaves

And sway in the wind.

But I am here.

Here, by my own fault.

If only that tree hadn't existed.

With it's silvery fruit

Bathing in the moonlight.

That one tree,

I couldn't touch.

All other plants were mine,

All their fruit,

Every twig,

Every leaf,

They were mine.

But this tree,

It was his,

And he said,

“Do not eat!”

“Do not touch!”

“For its fruit is not for mortals!”

“You, it would surely destroy!”

But the fruit!

How sweet it looked!

Shining, there, in the moonlight.

Just one touch I thought

Wouldn't hurt.

Just to touch the skin

It would surely be divine.

And a bird there in the tree,

He twittered in a agreement.

So I touched the fruit,

Such silver fruit

That hung,

There,

Upon the magic tree.

And a light began to dance

From my fingers,

Up my arm,

Entering every pore,

It filled my heart with desire.

So I took it,

and I ate.

'Twas forbidden,

but I ate!

And a dawning broke upon me

Such as I'd never had before.

I wanted to dance and scream at once

And writhe in pure, hot pain

How something can be so

Sweet and sour,

I know I'll never fathom.

And all at once a fire flamed

And it burned deep down inside me.

It burned,

How it burned!

From my inside to my out,

And my Master heard my cry,

My shrill cry of joy and pain,

And his wrath,

It poured upon me

A storm I'd never seen.

He kicked me from the garden

And locked me in this house,

Here,

In this room.

Where I'm alone,

Where no one else can see me,

And the scars I've born till now.

Every day and every evening,

I pace this horrid room.

At first glance,

It's not such a bad place,

There's lush carpet on the floor

Flowered paper on the wall

A comfy bed

A sturdy nightstand

And a silver mirror above it.

But this mirror,

It is a curse!

For every time I pass,

I see my marred complexion,

And a glimpse into the past.

If I avoid the mirror

It's really quite a nice place,

But it's nothing like the garden!

One more item fills the room,

A blessing and a curse,

For the seed of the forbidden fruit

Has grown into a tree.

And here it is my only food,

It keeps me living,

But it's death,

For every time I eat the fruit again,

I burn and scar once more.

The joy I once received,

From biting into its flesh,

Has faded by the light-years,

And I'm left without a rest.

So I'm alone.

Here,

In this room.

With not a soul to comfort me,

Not a face to give me joy.

“There is one way,”

The Master told me.

“To fix what you've undone.”

But it's a narrow way,

I was informed,

Not one most men would take,

Another must do it for me,

Because I simply,

Just can't.

Another soul must bring me,

Some living water from a stream,

Unlock the door that blocks me,

And offer me his life.

For once he steps across the threshold,

Of my musty, little house.

And sets his eyes upon me,

Death will steal his soul.

No man would dare

To do this thing,

I know I'm stuck for good.

I couldn't bear to see one die for me,

Even if he would.

It's my shame that brought me here,

My own guilt,

My own pain.

Why should another have to bear it?

And free me from this cage?

So I'll stay here forever,

In this musty, cursed room,

I don't care,

I tell my self,

But my longing is just the same,

How I want that living water,

To heal my rotten flesh!

Time passes,

And I pace,

My toes have worn

A well-paved path

Through the lush-green carpet,

And around the silver tree.

My limbs feel limp and weary,

But I dare not go to sleep,

For hunger pains will soon awake me,

And I'll have to eat again.

There!

I feel them!

Twisting my stomach in sudden agony.

I stumble toward the tree,

One hand reaching for the fruit,

The other against my flaming belly.

If only I had that water!

But no one would ever come for ugly me.

I grasp the fruit and take a bite,

A slight shimmer eases pain.

I gobble up the silver flesh,

And fling myself upon my bed.

I feel the fire burn my skin,

And I wish that I was dead.

Oh, terrible curse!

Why must you bite so long?

When will someone come to free me?

But, I know, all hope is lost.

Living water,

Won't you come?

Let me wash now in your stream,

Must I live like this forever?

Oh, such a hopeless dream!

Knock, knock!

A pounding hits the door.

My heart beats wildly.

Could it be?

No.

It can't.

I know it can't.

Who would come for miserable me?

But,

I hear it again.

The knocking once more.

“Come in,”

I say.

But I'm sure this is a dream.

The lock,

I hear it click.

The knob,

I see it turn.

The door screeches on its hinges.

And my soul,

It wants to scream!

For this man who stands before me,

He holds no bowl, no pitcher, no jug.

Where is the living water?

Perhaps he came here by mistake.

He says my name,

And I tremble,

I shake,

And hide my face.

“Don't look at me!” I cry.

“I am ugly. I am marred!”

“My face will surely kill you!”

“Flee this horrid place!”

But I feel his hands upon my shoulders,

He forces me to look his way.

Placing his fingers on my scars,

And kissing my broken face,

He whispers.

“Child,”

“I love you!”

And I cry.

I know that voice,

I know those eyes.

He is my Master's likeness!

“What are you doing here!” I scream.

Surely he wouldn't die.

But the tree within my room,

It begins to tremble and it quakes.

Its silver branches flash like spears,

The leaves rattle in a storm.

Before my very eyes it comes to life,

And uproots its hefty trunk.

My Master turns to face the tree.

His arms spread wide in peace.

“No!” I scream.

“Stay back!”

But the tree wraps its limbs around him,

As if to steal his breath.

And he doesn't say a word,

Not one

Single

Word.

And I cry,

Here.

In this room,

Where the steely branches take his life.

They squeeze his quivering body,

And I too,

Feel like my life

Is being squeezed from me.

How could he do this?

It was all my fault!

I think perhaps the tree is done,

It's awful work at an end,

But one mighty branch breaks from the rest,

Plunging deep into my Master's side.

Blood spews down his legs,

Down the tree,

To the ground,

Where the thirsty roots soak up the spill.

But the blood,

The crimson flood,

The tree drinks,

But it is shriveling!

There must be power in the blood!

The silver leaves,

They curl and drop,

The fruit decays on shrinking limbs.

And my Master slides to the carpet,

Now stained red,

A pool of blood.

I run to his side,

And kneel beside him,

Feel his pulse and know,

He is dead.

Nothing I can do.

Sorrow racks my body,

Tears tumble down my cheeks,

They splash into the river,

Flowing from his side.

Surely this man was not a man,

But someone more.

Blood seeps through my garment,

Warm and sticky.

This life-giving substance,

Floods the entire floor.

Living Water!

Could this be?

I want to vomit,

I long to run.

But something urges me.

Wash.

You must wash!

In the crimson flow!

I stare into the sparkling river.

And it whispers,

“Love is red.”

So I wash,

In pure love.

Pure, crimson love.

I splash it on my face,

On my neck,

And on my arms.

I smear it down my whole body

'Till I'm covered,

In blood.

I walk now towards the mirror,

Trembling.

But my complexion,

It is smooth!

The scars are gone!

And I am clean!

How staining blood can wash me white as snow?

Don't ask me.

I don't know.

But it is true!

I feel a hand upon my shoulder,

And I spin,

Afraid.

But he stands there,

My Master!

Alive!

“I thought you were dead!” I cry.

“I was,” he replies.

“But how..?” I begin.

He places a finger on my lips.

“How can you doubt?”

He shushes me.

“When you have seen what love can do?”

“Believe, Child!”

“I believe!” I reply, clasping his hands.

He smiles.

A beaming smile,

With a sparkling light of gold.

It fills my soul from top to bottom.

“Now, come,” he says,

Pulling me towards the door.

“See the place I have prepared for you.”

And I walk through that door,

The one that locked me,

Here

For so long.

But now I'm free.

And I know love.

True, crimson love.

Now we walk into a garden,

Filled with rainbows of colors.

Ones I've never seen before.

Lots of flowers,

Their scent weighs heavy in the air.

A water fall,

It crashes,

But makes a joyful sound,

Against the golden rocks.

The grass is green,

Pure emerald,

Filled with life.

And there are trees,

Millions of trees,

But their fruit is red,

Like love.

Tears of joy splash down my cheeks.

But my Master wipes them all away,

Puts a song within my mouth,

And we sing,

Together.

Here.

In a garden.

Made new.