Object 7: Ain Sakhri lovers figurine (made around 11,000 years ago). Stone sculpture, found near Bethlehem

There was a pebble,

There was a pebble the size of a clenched fist,

There was a pebble the size of a clenched fist tumbling downstream,

Tumbling downstream, banging against other stones on its way,

A stone smoothed and rounded against the chattering of other stones,

By the rhythm of the water's soft caress, like the soft caress of a lover.

There was a hand,

There was a human hand,

There was a human hand reaching down into a river,

Reaching down beneath the glistening froth of the bubbling water,

Choosing the pebble, lifting it from its tinkling gravel bed,

A human hand holding a pebble the size a fist,

Fingers feeling the round sensual rhythm of a pebble, caressed by a river's flow.

There was a man,

There was a woman,

There was a man and a woman who loved each other,

They loved each other and loved to feel each other's soft caresses -

A hand,

A hand touching a hand,

Fingers stroking hair, lingering on a thigh,

Fingers dipping and probing in an ecstasy of passion,

A man and a woman making love,

Wrapping their thighs around each other,

A man and a woman gasping in the wonder of the sexual act,

A man and a woman dissolving into each other,

Like a stone dissolving in the patient embrace of a river's subtle song.

There were gazelle,

There were gazelle to be hunted,

Hunted on the lush savannah landscapes,

There were gazelle and there was grain on the stalks,

There were wild grasses, there were lentils and chickpeas and wheat and barley,

There was meat on the fire and bread baking on hot stones,

There was food in the larder and new gods to worship,

To thank for the fecundity of nature,

The blessing of a benevolent earth,

The union of a man and a woman consecrated by the fruitful earth.

There is passion,

There is passion in flesh, in being human, in being alive,

In being alive when the mother goddess has blessed life itself,

When life itself is bursting with vigour and hope,

And a man and woman are making love,

A man and a woman are lost in each other,

Lost in a tender moment, caught in time,

Caught in an eternal embrace,

A tender moment frozen into soft lines of energy,

An emotional time machine carved into a pebble,

Carved into a pebble so that the lover's act will unfold forever in ecstasy,

To remind us all of the power of love,

The power of love carved into a pebble,

A pebble the size of a fist,

A pebble lifted from the bed of a river near Bethlehem, 10,000 years ago,

A stone smoothed and rounded against the chattering of other stones,

By the rhythm of the water's soft caress, like the soft caress of a lover.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/ahistoryoftheworld/objects/vNEwNR8rSzGPSwSn3yeJwA