“The Tree of What?” A Reflective Muse, refined through Fire and Depth

I. The Question in the Garden

An Adam and Eve ate from the Tree of What?
The Tree of Knowing—good and evil.

Before the bite, were they ignorant or innocent?

Did they know right from wrong
or just the warmth of breath, the pulse of light,
the dew on unbranded skin?

They walked with God in the cool of the day,
yet didn’t know shame until knowledge came—

So, how can you blame a child who never knew
that fire burns, until it blistered them?

How do you punish ignorance as though it were defiance?

Is that justice?

Or is that control?

Or worse... is it the blueprint?

II. Whips, Books, and the Bark of Trees

Fast forward from Eden to cotton rows—
where another people, unknowing of "wrong,"
were told they were beasts,

chained in the belly of a wooden Leviathan,
their tongues torn from their truths,
but forced to confess with borrowed names.

How do you tell a man it's sinful to run,
when he's never tasted freedom?

Is that not like Eden all over again?

"Don't eat from that tree."
"Don't read from that book."
"Don't dream of that land."

They were punished not for what they knew—
but for daring to want to know.

"When you control a man's thinking, you do not have to worry about his actions."
—Dr. Carter G. Woodson

The bark of lynched trees whispered knowledge,
like the serpent once did—

uncoiled beneath branches, dangling Black gods
who asked no permission
to be wise.

III. From Eden to Ethiopia, From Egypt to Ohio

The question isn’t about apples or fig leaves—
it’s about who writes the law,

who decides what’s good and what’s evil,

and who’s allowed to ask questions
without being burned at the stake,
or buried in the footnotes of stolen scrolls.

Before Moses, there was Ma’at.

Before Plato, there was Ptahhotep.

Before the cross, there was the Ankh.

Before democracy, there were councils of elders
under baobab trees—
who knew that law without love
is just violence in a robe.

IV. Revelation by Revolution

So, here we are—descendants of exiled gods,
still biting fruit,
still bleeding for it.

But what if the real sin
was not in disobedience,
but in accepting the terms of the story?

What if knowledge wasn’t a curse,
but the awakening?

What if Eve was the first revolutionary,
and Adam the first ally?

"The most potent weapon in the hands of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed."
—Steven Biko

V. Final Cut 'em Up: A Scapel in the Soul

So I ask you:

What fruit are you biting now?

Is it sweetened by lies, or fermented in truth?

What trees do you fear, and why?

Is it because you were told not to touch them,
or because you know once you do,
you'll never be the same?

Who taught you to be ashamed of the nakedness of your being wonderfully made?

Who told you your questions were sins?

And if you have gained knowledge—
What are you doing with it?

Are you still in Eden, or just outside its gates,
looking back at paradise and forward at purpose?

The Tree of What?
The Tree of Knowing.
The Tree of becoming.
The Tree of you.

So, now what will you choose?

To obey—or to awaken?

And whichever one...So Mote it be.