to pale into nothing, light from the far end caught his eye. He moved toward it as best he could, slowly so that his timid sheep could keep up. As he reached the exit, he paused so his eyes could adjust again to the brightness of the day. He raised his eyes and viewed a broad meadow, waist-high grasses swaying gently in a slight breeze.
The meadow was filled with birds and flying insects, darting and diving and dodging each other as they enjoyed the freedom of life, but what caught Kole’s eyes were the woods on the far side of the meadow that stretched in both directions as far as he could see. The path seemed to lead straight and narrow across the expanse of the field and enter the forest. Kole smiled, readjusted his pack, and started across the field with long strides.
He was almost to the trees when a figure emerged from the shadows of the trunks, causing him to come to an abrubt stop. The being was one that Kole had never seen before, but he had heard tales from both his mother and father that made him certain of what he was looking at; a cherubim.
The living being looked human in stature, but its face, the face that examined Kole with deep steadfast eyes, was the face of a lion, golden brown and furred with a broad muzzle and hot breath. To either side of its head, where its ears should have been, were other faces. On the right was the face of an eagle, and on the left was a human face. It had four faces and two pairs of wings. Its legs were long and formed as a man’s legs but with the split hooves of a calf as feet, and they shone bright and polished like butterfly wings or changing leaves. Beneath each of the wings were human arms and hands. And in his one hand was a flaming staff so bright that it caused Kole’s eyes to burn and water when he looked at it. He fell down upon the earth with his face pressed to the grass and could not form his words.
“No,” boomed the voice of the cherubim like thunder on a mountain, “do not do that, son of Adam, for I am your fellow servant. Rise.”
Kole looked up into the dark eyes of the angel. He stood slowly, noticing his sheep grazing unconcerned upon the sweet meadow sedge. “Are you not Kole, the son of the man Adam and the woman Eve?”
“I am that same Kole.” He felt his unsteady legs tremble and his voice break.
“Do not be afraid,” said the angel, “for I have been placed here to keep man from entering the garden of the Lord.”
“I have come to seek answers from the Lord,” said Kole. “I have come to enter this garden.”
“From the day you first set forth upon this purpose, it has been known,” said the cherub. “You alone may enter the garden. Your sheep may remain in this vale, safe and well tended.”
Kole hesitated. He looked at his sheep for a moment, then seemed to make up his mind. He took a step toward the angel. The cherubim swung the fiery staff up before him. “Caution, son of Adam, do not eat of any of the fruit of the garden unless instructed by the Lord to do so. Do not eat or drink anything nor let any food touch your lips for three days. Do not eat of the fruit of the trees nor of the produce of the ground. Do not eat nut or berry nor meat, nor drink any of the water. This is His will.” As he spoke, all four of the mouths moved at once; the mouth of the lion, the mouth of the man, the mouth of the oxen, and the mouth of the eagle.
“I understand,” said Kole. The angel lowered his staff and moved in the direction that the human face was facing. Kole took a step forward and then another. He passed the angel and turned to look back. The cherubim had resumed its original position, but the fourth face, that of the oxen, watched him with intelligent eyes.
Kole turned and looked through the trees. They were not as close together as he had imagined them to be. The woods were spacious and well tended. The moment he had stepped under the canopy of trees he realized that the breeze was sweet and mild, almost as if the