The Garden
His eyes fluttered open before the sun had spilled a single ray over the canopy above him. It was quiet. It was the same as it had been each morning before last. Creatures stirred softly all around him - in the trees, in the grass beneath his bare back, in the air just an arm’s length from his face. He smiled. From the grandest to the smallest among them, they were his alone. And yet, being that they were indeed all he had, there was an emptiness, an aching that he could not fully explain. The smile faded from his face and he exhaled, letting the shaky breath escape into the surrounding grey of the early morning. He stretched one arm, and then the other, muscle and sinew working themselves awake.
A movement nearby launched him onto his feet and into a crouching position before he could identify where and what the sound was. He squinted against the darkness, making out a small heap at the opposite end of the clearing. It groaned and shifted. He retreated on the balls of his feet, feeling around for the shard of carved wood he kept near his sleeping grounds.
He took the shard in his left hand and with his right hand he launched a smooth stone toward the strange animal. With a thud, the stone found its target, causing the thing to cry out before laying still again.
His legs began to tremble as he inched forward. This was no beast of land nor air. For he could now make out the smoothness of bronzed skin, like his own. Hands and feet, like his own. It was a being as he was. He squeezed his eyes shut, opened them again, and then craned his neck forward. There was a softness to it. As the being sat up, shaking its head free of dirt and leaves, he stared at the two mounds, the wideness of its hips. He could not steady his rattled heart. He took a step forward and stopped.
The being felt his gaze and looked up sharply. They stayed that way, the one staring at the other, until the sun hung high above them, breaking through the thicket of branches and spilling into the clearing. He moved slowly then, cautiously, so as not to scare it away. He kept walking until the brown of its eyes shone and he could see the slight rise and fall of its chest.
And there was nothing to hide. They stood in their nakedness and were unashamed.
He lifted a hand and traced a finger along the length of its face, touching his own as well. He could not yet be sure, but something had begun to bubble up inside of him. He cleared his throat and brought its hand to his cheek.
“Man,” he whispered. He searched desperately for any sign of understanding. Slowly, its face lit up and stole the breath from his lungs. The being pulled his hand toward its chest and tapped it twice.
“Woman,” she said.
And she belonged to him. Not as the creatures of the trees, the grass, the sky, and the sea, but as something far greater; something binding and everlasting. Because now, he too, belonged to her.
Photo Credit: Gracie Hammond @graciehammondphotography
