Baby Seed

You say it's true?" he said lining up his words slowly
as soldiers in rank, his mouth intoning each word which came rolling out with incipient bitterness, and amazed regret.
'"Tell me this cannot be so."
"But it is My Lord." said the minister.

Lord said:

"How can all this transpire yet escape my eye;
all sit at my feasting table yet poisoning the food I eat?

Where can betrayal find solace for the betrayed?
And I perceive there were witnesses who kept their confidence and to my face merry wish while all the while it was deception concealed."

Another of his of his anguished cries rang out
and he said:
"True love at end it seems lives on endless faith
but so easily crosses Fate, so easily descends to lesser means
where it lands at Hells gate eventually begging to be let in."

"How can I survive this slight, this humiliation given between
the two I have loved most, the two from whom I have received most;
the two who have lived in my soul of souls-where even if I wanted to,
these two I cannot expunge, or exorcise even as I must.

So you say she is with child and that child is his? "

"Yes my Lord, it is so."

"You say she confesses such? "

"She did my Lord."

"Bring her to me I need to see her heart, gauge her duplicity;
her lies to see if even now if they will pour from her mouth
or if she'll offer me false regrets or tepid sentiments
of how perhaps she, too, was deceived, or bewitched.
I would see her
and look upon her face and make my own judgment."

The minister stirred to take his leave, heart pounding unsure if his part was beginning perceived since he knew of the liaison, and did not have the courage to convey that truth to Lord; and, as he traversed, he wondered how long before Lord would guess that he too, his minister, must have long known some part of that truth and whether even as he turned to leave a blazing bolt might split his back and cleave him in two- properly rewarded for his complicity.

Down each step from Lord's throne, descending, he realized was a step into his own hell for surely the wife would betray him to Lord if pressed, to save her own soul.

All this he knew would have consequence far beyond a simple tryst and find among all there reverberation, remorse and futile lament. There would be here, he thought, fatal sin, unexpungable, wide ranging and irremediable.

He survived the last rung stepping out to Angel Air, and spied the hosts assembled for Worship Services of the Universe. He, the minister at the pulpit, was one and same the lover who impregnated Lord's woman, raised up angels in Lord's praise while yet erstwhile dipping his seed deep into Lord's wife most loved secretly.

So beautiful he was, a man who sparkle-gleamed, Lord's choice as Worship minister was at once wise, beyond beautiful, and fatal.

But, all said, it was she, Lords wife, whom no man could resist and he could see how even he who was charged with the Worship of the Universe would love her and be not able to resist even a glancing smile from her.
He, the minister, loved her too but would not let that love escape the confines of his deepest desire, rather, he, Lords second minister, held it prisoner there for eternity.

He swept by during the service, thousands of Angels and Cherubs, all fluttering receiving the sacraments glanced at him, knowing his mission.
He hurried on secure that none of this would end to the good, and, rather, this was to doom all to Shattering Consequence.

He found her languishing, her eyes wide at his entrance, guessing, he guessed, she had already surmised his mission and had prepared herself for the conflagration sure to come even as she bent her mind to pray for the survival of her baby-seed, knowing not then what was to be its final fate. For only in this, was her care. She roused herself automatically and prepared to leave.

Chapter Two

Of all the angels, she thought, none surpassed the beauty given to her and he who led the Worship of the Hosts, Lord had favored the both of them
with exceeding beauty, ample grace such that surely Lord must have guessed they'd be drawn one to each and such it was sure all this smacked of Fate; that each looked upon the other, and each seemed to the other a heavenly match.

She'd sought to avoid his beautiful eye, his beautiful face but unable to resist she fled, sought to resist, but everywhere in her mind's eye loomed his face.

And he, too, could not shed this obsession with her either; he needed, intended, he told himself, only to look at her; where the harm in that?

But, more the thought, the obsession grew until he realized that she, too,
felt same and similar and circling drawn they were into the water spout
funneled down the more they sought to resist into it's mouth
until they came body to body, soul to soul, host to host, face to face, mouth to mouth and consummated what they could not resist and fell full force into that maelstrom-mix of desire, love, need, and faint fear, for each knew even as the consort ensued that Steady, Riotous Consequence would fall to each and all--and mystery then would place the veil on the Future Tense.

Momentous drawn yet they could not resist both fell into this; Consequence lapping away at Fate's Intent which clear revealed that somehow their laying together was foregone and foreseen since both were near identical made in Lord's image but higher than all the other angels, and, hence, perforce would be drawn to each as consequence of their very origin. This was her thought as she walked.

Her footfall silent in the marching toward the Throne of Lord, her face sunken in deep thought, she tread past the Worshiping Hosts eyes searching and then they fixed upon him in the pulpit and locked for searing seconds, he inquisitive, she communicating fear and fright, he looking back quizzical sensing her fear and then she'd passed and contact was lost and her immediate trek resumed step by step up Heaven's Throne.

Chapter Three

Step by step her fate clicked, her hand shook, her heart mixed, of love for him, and love for Him and love for her baby seed.

She could see him pass the portal, sitting sternly as she approached, hands firm on the Throne arms; she moved with caution born of fear-and fear of scorn;
he offered no smile, no gesture as she drew near
no hint solace would be offered or given
til full face she stood his countenance aglimmer, a stiffled mix; anger, hurt, pain, mistrust and yes shards of what she guessed were the remains of his love for her, now strangled, thrust aside, to trash bin heap
barely discernible inside the cauldron of the seethings
and remonstrances boiling in his soul.

She offered a genuflect which went unacknowledged.

She offered a faint smile which was unacknowledged

and arched now she resolved that he was to have his way as to how he would communicate what shown
plainly in his face; she stood stock still
now edging into curiosity as to how Lord
would balance his anger need
and his strong tendency to forgive.

He spoke:
"I have word and rumor received that you have baby seed
given you by him who leads the Worship, and if true"
he hesitated, "would fatal wound me to deepest depth and
try my soul in deadly fires where my love for you now
surely wrestles with my rousing hate and vengeful side
making haste to surface and smite what I love
and have loved; the two I had risen above all others
and would in tandem thrust both down to foul dust
for clear betrayal's gain is my loss.

Face me here and tell these are lies, untruths
and you have remained to me true, faithful, loyal
and such and would not bring to me this mountain of shame
before all the hosts and have me public seem
unable to consummate and maintain
True True Truest Love in my own household."

He paused and looked deep into her.

"Silence here" he continued "can be easily mistaken as no defense
and says with deafening din that guilt stills your tongue
and slices now yet another piece of my already bleeding heart.

"Lilith, tell me now, all is untrue and you
remain my heart, my soul, my true.
I cannot" he said resignedly "bear the thought that this is no longer-
if so I am sunk and lost;
mighty in so many eyes but a shriveled thing without
that platform
which is your love."

She began slowly, mindful that her words would reverberate
within and travel far outside the room, she could feel angel
eyes and angel hearts, hearing and listening, for all knew
this meeting's import and this could not be shut from its gathering drama
now square in her hands where choosing her words carefully
could for all mean
ill or respite, conflagration or reconciliation,
She spoke:

Chapter Four

She spoke:
"I grievously regret Lord this has come to be so,
and even as I carry this child my heart still longs for you,
even as I know, I have betrayed your trust
and don't deserve forgiveness in this.

My defense, my attempt to comprehend
how this came to be has wracked my sleep shielding me from the rest I need
and the child needs for me to have.

I ask your forgiveness,
but more your comprehension of how this came to be,
he and I."

She paused awaiting his response
but none came except the light from his steady gaze
which she could not read, could not comprehend
what his thought and reaction was or might be.

She continued.

"It was you Lord who gave me life, lifted me high, above all angels;
you sire did the same for him. You gave us both beauty,
position and trusted duties.

We were among heaven's spires and were meant to be your light,
not cast darkness upon things. But there Lord was my weakness,
my temptation, where I was lost, where I gave in.

He was so like me, so similar it did not seem as much a breach
since he was in your light as I was, there was in the back of my mind a match from similarities alone and at one point I deluded my self
into thinking this was something you your self might want,
or made possible by your own handiwork, by creating us.

He stirred staring at her blankly a muffled sound started to come from him, indistinct.
She hesitated, waiting to see if he would react at last.

(Part of the novel "The Gospel According to Lilith" available on this site and on Amazon.com) Free versions at my website and audio chapters available as well.




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ABOUT THE POET ~
MBA, poet, short-stories and story poem. Completed over 7 books and 600 works., I came to the written word at an early age and my passion is to bring ideas, emotions and observations alive on the written page.


Last updated August 11, 2011