The Fig Tree

In Sunday School I learned about the big red apple of original sin in the garden. How Adam and Eve ate thereof. Caste out. Ashamed. Hid from God. What I didn’t learn— it was really a fig. They ate a few. Clothed themselves in fig leaf. Hid from God. Caste out. Separated from God. How Jesus went to the fig tree for food and finding none, he said, “May no one ever eat fruit from you again!” Explanation mark. A curse that lifted a curse. And the tree withered and died.

Jesus new Adam

the sin of man forgiven

reunite with God

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NaPoWriMo Day 29 prompt on curses.

The Fig Tree

Christ’s Entry

I can’t really say I loved him. Love does not come easy for me. He was my first kiss, a little bit of making out, kind words from his thin lips.

I went on to guard the pool, to save a life, my tanned olive skin a beacon for men. Then one day a man walked through the gate and I watched his choppy strokes across the water and married him.

We vowed to love art. To make art out of our lives. We traveled both locally and abroad but that huge painting on the Getty wall stays with me— Christ’s Entry into Brussels in 1889 by James Ensor.

When will He come?

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NaPoWriMo Day 21 prompt— a person forgotten, a job taken, a memorable piece of art, an unanswerable question

https://smarthistory.org/ensor-christs-entry/

Christ’s Entry

Scene One of My Life

Exterior Afternoon

A baby is sleeping in a baby buggy under an old elm. The sun is shining on the buggy.

Voice Over

Jane There is something heartfelt about being born in Iowa.

A small butterfly flies into the buggy and lands on the baby’s nose.

The baby wakes up.

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NaPoWriMo Day 14 prompt to create the first scene of your life.

Scene One of My Life

Underwater

When I was ten, I learned to swim. To hold my breath, submerge, and move underwater. Only the torso, legs and arms of other people were visible. No heads. I never timed these underwater adventures but swam about like some kind of fish. Eyes open but no gills; just my expanded lungs, increasing capacity to stay under longer and longer. I became an orca scouting its prey. My feet, the fluke, pounding surface with each new breath. My mouth spewing water into the sunshine.

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NaPoWriMo Day 8 prompt to write your alter ego.

Underwater

Born With a Mark

to Anna

Yes

you were born

with a birthmark—

red heart

below your heart

a longing-mark

of how your mother

wanted love—

to give love

and to take it

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NaPoWriMo Day 2 prompt to choose an obscure and interesting English word. I used “longing-mark”— a newborn babe’s birth mark said to take on the shape of something desired by the mother. This was an actual mark on my first born.

Born With a Mark

In Mother’s Room

I am in my mother’s room. It was the kitchen. Here she was the boss. The pots and pans were hers, the dishes, all the ingredients that fed the family. She kept us together with her mashed potatoes, green beans and meat loaf.

She nourished us with sweets made each Sunday. She poured the cereal of life into us each morning and sometimes when it was 20 below zero outside, she called from the kitchen, “Jane, French toast is ready.”

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dVerse prompt to write from a first line of a novel. I used Samuel Beckett’s “I am in my mother’s room.”

In Mother’s Room

Blessing

I bless those who enter the fray

a mother praying nightly for safe return

now fights against sex traffic of child

in a country with a written law

helping law keepers to better know it

protect those who cannot protect own self

want to end slavery in our lifetime

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dVerse prompt to write a Kwansaba (seven lines, seven words per line, no word over seven letters)

Blessing