The Creation of Women

Man was the master. He possessed tools and weapons that other animals lacked--yet he was dissatisfied. Something was missing in his life. He observed the animals mating and knew that this was the missing element. The affinity he shared with Baiame, and which was present in birds, animals and even insects, had no human outlet. In this one respect he felt he was less than the animals.

One night he had a vivid dream. He had lain down at the foot of a yacca tree. As he looked at it in the last moments of consciousness, it must have impressed itself on his mind, for in his dream the tree was still there. The elongated flower spike rose far above his head, looking somewhat like a kangaroo's tail. From the old leaves at the base of the trunk came an aromatic perfume so strong that he was almost intoxicated.

The tree was moving, changing shape. He felt that if he took his eyes off it for a moment it would vanish. The flower spike was growing smaller, the trunk divided into two seperate limbs, two more branches sprouted from beneath the flower. The bark grew soft and smooth as the flower seperated into head and trunk. The transformation was complete. Another man had been created from a flowering tree and was stepping out of the grassy clump with arms outstretched to greet him.

But was it a man? This figure, more graceful than the grass-tree from which it came, was like man and yet unlike. More gently formed and rounded. With a flash of insight imparted by Baiame, man realised that this creature was woman, equal to man, and complementary both in nature and in form. The same divine spark illuminated her face and her thought as in man himself. He knew instinctively that in her was the otherness that separated and yet linked male and female in all life, and that they were both linked to the everlasting otherness that was part of Baiame himself.

They came together and embraced. Their feet scarcely touched the ground in the primal dance with which they celebrated their union. It was no longer a dream but reality. The dance was ended. With heaving breasts and arms round each other's bodies, they stood still to survey the world they now knew had been created for them, and which they shared with the All-Father.

"Not yours alone," a distant voice proclaimed. "Yours and mine. We are linked together for all time, you and your children and the reborn babies of the spirit world, and those I shall send after me. Look around you."

They looked, and to their surprise saw that the plain was covered with plants and animals, standing motionless, listening to the words that proclaimed the ordering of Baiame's universe.

The voice continued. "These are all my creatures, great and small, plant and animal, on land and in sea and sky. My creatures, made for your use and for you to care for. They will supply all your needs. They share in small measure the life that is in me, and now in full measure in you who are man and woman. This day is a beginning, for you and for me.

The voice died away. There seemed to be a new kindliness in the sunglight of Yhi. From the plain about them came a vast and soft sighing. The spell that had held the animals motionless was broken. They scampered away and were lost to sight. Only the trees and grass and flowers remained in their places, equally aware of the coming of mankind.

The loneliness, the incompleteness was ended. The duties and obligations of man had begun. As the days and years went by, their shared existence took shape. He was the hunter, the maker of shelter. She was food-gatherer, home-maker, bearer pf children. They worked, and danced, and played, and loved together and in them Baiame found fulfillment.

"In them I am content at last to show myself to the universe I have created," he mused.

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