The Making of Eve

Didi -- Thanks for the invitation. I've joined.

Here's my entry for "The Making of Eve." -- Lyle Daggett

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the making of eve

the first light touches me, is a feather breath
over me, suddenly awake
in the green world.

in the shiver of leaves, the fingertip touch
of dewdrops, the high cry
of a bird lost in mist,

there is no other voice, no word, no speech
like mine, no form long-limbed
and blue with shadow

stepping through the gathering morning.
i am the first, then,
of the many i will be on the earth.

the slip and brown glance of the deer,
the slap of a fish in the clear pool,
the whisper of the snake, cool and sybilline,

pass to me their knowledge of this place
and this time and of times to come.
this is the garden of knowledge,

this is the tree of our making,
where i speak to you and you speak to me
and we know each other.

in the light on the bright hills and bent grass
from the ribs of the earth
i come to the world.

and so i have made myself:
i speak the first word.
come now to life, and hear it.