That Sixth Morning
I think about God godding
around those first five days,
this great finger in the void
pointing, and saying THIS
and THAT and THIS-n-THAT.
And it was all so very good.
On the sixth day God was up
before the dawn sensing an ache
new to Eden: the loneliness.
God knew there was still time
before the sabbath’s start, so
from dust and ribs and breath
were born the children of God.
In only a matter of days they
would come to a self-conscious
wildness, be embarrassed by
God’s sweet attention, and
wander beyond the garden’s gate.
That sixth morning was a roll
of the dice. But God still rolled.
And it was good.
OH I love this. You are so good at this.