THE EIGHTH DAY

On the eighth day,

Having rested,

Returning to view

All he created,

The spirit hovered

Over the water

Looking for

What still needed

To be done.

The seas said,

“I am deep,

 I am wide

Mighty and strong

Like the spring tide,”

So he continued on

To the dry land.

“Are you in need?”

He asked.  “No,

I am quite fine,

contoured hills,

A perfect design,”

So he moved on

Until he came

upon a garden,

Lush and green,

Home of man.

 The spirit inquired,

“Adam, are you in need?”

Shivering in the morning chill,

Adam said, “I have no fangs

For defense, nor

Legs fast enough

To run away.

I do not know

If I will last another day.

Am I your mistake?”

The spirit,

Took pity and said,

“You must survive

On your own,

But you are never alone.

An angel will always be

By your side,

To gird you up

Or lengthen your stride.

Rally or run,

It will be your choice,

But if you listen

To that inner voice,

That will be me.”

The evening of the eighth day

The spirit decided he

Had accomplished

All he had set out to do.