Three, today, is
the happy morning number
of soggy robins in the closest tree, new blooms

on damp petunias, cups of tea I’ll drink
as I thumb Genesis, again, to keep on learning
how creation’s never through.

On the third day
God made ocean and dry land,
vegetation, plants and trees –

mad synthesis of growth and seed.
The process never stills.
Someone who knew Him wrote

His day is as a year, so here we are,
miraculous invention:
fruit.

I create you as you create me,
and while we will not finish,
we are always more complete.

It poured this morning
like it did three years ago
when I awoke alone

and listened for the start of life.
It sounded like rain on leaves
and I saw that it was good.