the third day
dusty feet
belie calloused care
upon the firmness of rock,
this blanket of a newborn earth
now we will have a place
to call our home,
beneath the silent gaze of the eternal mountains
the sea retreated with the tides today
if only in anticipation
of the moment when God
would mingle with humanity
the windows of time
veil future’s beckoning,
yet perceive when the Potter will
become the clay
waters and oceans and seas
wait patiently to recreate;
spirit is not so unapproachable
when there is dirt between the toes
ashes to dust
soil to sand
you fashion all things with your hand
