The best part of workshopping the poem I posted last was figuring out what I was trying to do with it.
After feedback from my group, here is my revision.
Mother Earth, World of the Patriarchs, Becomes
In darkness does the Spirit of God hover over the Waters of Creation.
Before form, creates light. Before morning, creates night.
First morning, second day, from infinite indigo, God forms Space and names Heaven, and Knows it is good.
Morning on the third day, Creator calls Mother Earth to rise up from Her birth waters.
From black fertile skin springs green seed-bearing grasses, herbs, and fruiting trees. Our infant world breathes.
Morning four, God sets the sparks and fires of Heaven in patterns,
Signs in the sky to mark the passing of years, of light-years, setting context for Earth and her children of every age –
the Sun, the Moon, the Stars Creator names, and sets them in the Body of the Heavens to light our Earth – Creator’s Child, God’s Canvas.
Color fills our world before we do.
Green and blue egg twirling in twinkling indigo; more black, brown, red, yellow, up close.
On the fifth day did Creator fill our waters with life, seabound.
On the fifth day did Creator fill our skies with birds, song, and sound.
The fifth night, God blessed them all to renew themselves year round.
And it was good.
Heavens and Earth finished, on the sixth day God called the cattle to rise up,
and all the creeping things, the beasts of the Earth, including at last…
“Let Us make Humanity in Our image,” Creator sings.
Earth’s waters rise to blanket Herself in mist, and from the swirling humid dust…
In the World of the Patriarchs, God breathes life into a male, first,
before blessing us with a whole final day of rest and reflection, before blessing us with time.
Adventures of an Earthborn Alien 