And the people were angry with Jesus, after he cast out demons from a man. They accused Him of black arts. He answered, 'Do you not remember she who was greater than Solomon....? '
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God, my Father. Earth, my Mother.
What ancient book did not tell
this story?
And what being, heaven-chained,
did not look down in jealousy?
We were born from dust, equally,
my brother, my love, my destiny.
No Garden, no snake, no sin....yet.
Was it not Adam who committed
the first sin? Of sloth?
'Woman, I am hungry.'
'Then, eat.'
'Woman, you must feed me.'
'You, my brother, have two hands.'
'Do you deny my requests? '
'Do not order me. Love does not order.'
Then my Father spoke, 'Woman,
if you rebel, I will cause one hundred
of your children to die each day.'
And how long was a day, then?
I did not look back, then, or ever.
I did not give my brother children.
Who else was alive to impregnate me
with hundreds of children?
Solomon came ages after me.
After the Patriarchs demonized me,
as 'she who was not subservient.'
I was not Solomon's pagan wife,
for whom he raised heathen temples.
And, went insane, through the streets.
Who was 'she who was greater than Solomon'?
Did even the Patriarchs know this?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem