Final Draft: Earth

A WNW Poem

I sit in the work of God in awe. 

Mercury was a vacant battlefield, bruised with ice,

Venus was vaporous with its layers 

of acid, 

the sunlight drifts over my skin without singeing a cell, 

the wind passes through me, 

balanced as it rolls on, untamed, 

 brushing past thick groves of grass, flowers, 

canopies of tree, scratching open the silence with a rush of life

that makes me cover my ears 

This is the work of God; Earth, 

the newest planet made in the solar system. 

I had watched God smith the world, 

turning the ore over to the sun and the moon

until it was strong enough to cradle gravity. 

Seven days and seven nights God worked, 

toiling over their project.

Water filled the scars of the canvas, these were oceans, 

reflecting the stars, 

at the bank was beaches and grass, 

they twisted roots and braided the intricacies of trees, 

mountains were pinched from creases in the mud, 

ranges were filed down like teeth, 

then came the living things, 

reincarnated constellations; 

swan, bear, lion, 

ram, cow, dog, 

eagle, and crab.  

I sit in God’s capstone,  

bedded down in the meadow, 

taking in the craftmanship; 

the blazing blue clarity of the sky, 

then tendrils of clouds. 

I jolt with excitement as a bird appears, 

erupting from the ground, fluttering before me before bounding off through the air 

on its hewn wings, 

the way a bird thanks their Creator. 

What will I bring to my world? 

War, oceans, acid, or flowers? 

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Artwork by Maja Lindberg (found on Pinterest)

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The Word Not World Series (WNW) is an interactive anthology where, once a week, I share a photo and peers give me words that inspired them. “Scratch,” was from my mama, and “untamed,” was from Sheldonatello. Thank you for the inspiration!

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