Ascension Day: AD 30 or 36 or in between

I sometimes see sad Jesus in my dreams, on the
Tuesday or Wednesday before Holy Thursday.
For surely having died for our sins the previous Friday,
and thus releasing Eve from purgatory, her original sin
forgiven. Call me jaded, I always giggle in the dream.
I try and fail to imagine an original sin. Sure, it’s supposed
to be about disobeying G*d, but is really a metaphor
for killing the curiosity, which I still can’t see as much of a sin.
I could do better.
So, resurrection from a borrowed tomb should have
been the highlight, but no, imagine being met by Eve,
the mother of us all at the golden gates upon ascension,
Eve, filthy with the sin of all men, then
washed clean by a singular sacrifice.
Meeting her savior was—a blessing?
Meeting her savior with—gratitude?
Meeting her savior Eve’s—conflicted.
Did Yahweh, the trickster, have a plan?
Sad Jesus leaving the only home he had known,
his earthly mother, disciples, fresh bread, wine, but
the saved Eve washed away all sorrow, that and
the welcome all-knowing grin of all-father. Jesus took
Eve’s hands in his and they walked, barely touching
the clouds at their feet to his mansion in G*d’s house,
where a feast of manna awaits, hot and delicious,
golden cutlery, music softly celestial, raiment’s translucent,
but the always skeptical Jesus full of love wondered what
could go wrong? In the dream, Eve wanted to go bowling
having met ’the Dude’ Lebowski in limbo.
Alone at last Jesus gives Eve one of his beatific smiles
and says, ”See, I did all this for you.”
Remembering the garden, Eve lets go of her savior’s hands,
”Yeah, but I never asked you to.”

Read previous submissions for the theme Beauty and Chaos:

the ugly writers the ugly writers the ugly writers the ugly writers