Back to the Tree of Life

I tied the boat to the dock and went down to the shore. The skies of the East had already begun to whiten when I steered my way along the village path to the big house. Now I will take off my clothes and slip naked beneath the blankets, and press myself against the warm body of a strange and familiar man, whom I still do not know how to decide who he is and what he is to me—lover or enemy—who will embrace me and perhaps also desire... And I will surrender to him, and afterward I will fall asleep, and even in my sleep I will waver over whether to wake up or to stay and sleep forever. And perhaps I will dream of the lost Paradise. Of Gabriel and Michael... and Uriel... and Raphael... and the Serpent. Of the eternal meadows, and the clear waters, and the tree... yes, and the smooth, coveted fruit that I held between my ten fingers, and I did not know how to decide—and maybe , I actually decided.
This eternity, although at times it seems like a heart’s desire, is more frightening than life itself and even more than death. And life... the life of a mortal, whom no one asked whether he wished to enter this world. But now that I am already here, there is nothing left for me but to live my temporary life upon the face of the earth. To live the days and the sights and the people... and perhaps also to bear children... and to love them.
Yes, above all—to love!
To love, for it is not the Fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, nor the Fruit of the Tree of Life—rather it is the third fruit, the fruit of the tree that is not mentioned in the yellowing scrolls buried in the large earthenware jar, the fruit of the Tree of Love, the tree planted in the heart. Yes, today I already know: this fruit is the fruit of truth, the only truth that is worthy of man.