Creation

At your command, light came into being

Spoken syllables became substance,

Sentences became species,

and statements became stars.

Verbs turned your vision into vegetation, and your

vocal flow formed the fabric of the firmament.

But it was your fingers which framed flesh from the field.

As you molded man,

and with every impression of your hand

modeled him after Yourself,

the Great I Am.

Ever so carefully,

you breathed life into him,

cautiously placing him

in the garden you cultivated.

What pride and joy you must have felt

gazing at that gorgeous little guy,

the crown of your creation,

as he call by name

the creatures you created.

And what love with which you took that rib

from his side as he slept,

and you wove a wondrous work,

bringing her to the man,

drawing worship through his wordage

when he whispered,

Wow! A woman!

"Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bones..."

And just like that

Man became poet.

Wooed and likely blushing, she'd

take his hand

as you smiled where you stood

and declared all that you made as

“very good.”