Nephillim

We seemed as permanent as ancient rocks or mountains. Bathing in streams, we delighted in sin and outrage and paid tribute to the spirits of trees and rocks. We didn’t want to be God or even to destroy him. But his face was a cloud raining down on us. Imagine our surprise when Noah marched the animals in pairs into the ark and locked the door, laughing at us. Imagine our fear when the fires spread and the great flood came. When we swam into the flames and rose toward him as a sweet smoke, when we fought the waves until our strength gave out, when we climbed the rocks only to be thrown back by the harsh winds—He promised us immortality, but we were only a list of names carved into dust.