Garden Crasher

Da'ath stood in the position of honor, the untouchable centerpiece of the vast living landscape. The green, fruited, vines and branches rolled out from her roots in ever direction. Perfectly sweet grapes in green and purple, nine pound lemons and dragon fruit. They held to the branches, always ready to drop, so perfectly ripe, but never letting go until the attendants, those given change of the garden, were ready.

Da'ath, the great tree, though was different. Her branches were high and her canopy was vast and complex. The attendants would sometimes spend hours picking out the faces and animals the branches seemed to make before them. The watcher found this both interesting and annoying. Why should these ignorants be so blessed? They should strive for more, but the chosen never needed to strive for anything. The Lord who rebuked him, lavished so much on these dimwits. The watcher agreed that Da'ath was beautiful, after all, she was why he was here, but it was the fruit which held the real beauty.

If anyone had bothered to look at the watcher, they might have noticed his discomfort. He was used to being much larger, much more obvious, but that would never do here. He couldn't risk Michael stumbling in and discovering him. That would not go well. So, he exchanged his usual dragon form for a much smaller, tight fitting, lizard. Yes, it was a nod to his real self, but he couldn't help it; someone here needed to be clever. God wouldn't look at him. The slow attendants were much more interested in other things.

Why God had placed the attendants so close to the Da'ath, the watcher couldn't say. Perhaps is was just the beauty of the place, perhaps it was he wanted to keep the things he loved together, perhaps there was some plan the watcher couldn't divine. It didn't matter. The opportunity this produced shown like a beacon to the watcher. Ha, light to the light bringer, he thought, but that was from a past life. Before he had been rejected.

The watcher ran in the canopy of the great tree, looking down on the attendants who went about their business. The moment was so important. A moment of weakness or confusion. A small twist was all it would take and these chosen, but dimwitted, attendants would be broken. They could bear the weight of his gift, they would cause God to turn from them and the watcher would be waiting. He looked at one of the footprints of God and thought, if I can't have your thine, then I'll take your subjects. The lizard smiled to himself and the branch he was on lowered to the woman.

It didn't really matter what he said, as soon as he proposed the idea of eating the fruit, of breaking the rules, he knew he had her. And, just as the watcher knew would happen, she presented this same fruit to the man. It was easier being disobedient and drawing others into your disobedience, than it was being lonely. The juice of the fruit did its work and their eyes were opened. It was as if they saw each other for the first time, and they were exposed. They ran and hid.

The watcher moved away from them, pleased with his work. He moved again along the branches of the canopy, looking for God. He knew God would know already and he wanted to see his pain.

God sat, as he sometimes did on the bench beneath the cherry tree. He shined with an intense brightness and blooms of flowers covered the ground near him. He wasn't alone. Beside him sat what could best be described as a younger version of himself. He looked a lot like the male attendant. In fact, it had been he who had planted the trees and laid the bed of the river and place the walking paths before the attendants has arrived. He was creative and a creator.

God looked at his younger self and rested a knowing hand on him. There was love and sadness and the overwhelming sense that what had just happened was what needed to happen. Had been planned.

"You will be made flesh, like them, and dwell among them, and die like them."

"And for them. I'll die so they don't have to. Only, when I die, there will be so many more than the two there are today."

The watcher was shaken by the words. He could already smell the death and despair he had brought, yet is brought him no comfort.

A cherry fell to the ground beneath the tree, and in the distance you could hear various fruits falling through leaves and to the ground where they would rot. God got to his feet and began calling for the attendants.