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The dawn breaks… for the first time. It’s the sixth day on This New World, an earth ignorant and innocent to much else but new life, and He was doing something different.
As He passed them, they looked up from their simple grazing and gazed at Him, their unintelligible thoughts praising Him over and over again. The small feathered ones burst forth in song from the crest of the trees, crowning the beauty with music made only by and for His ears. The colors were bright and dark and deep and smooth- too many to name or even to see. The Beauty was a greater sound than anyone could hear, but Him. The melody of His Creation sprang together and collided in unison, harmonious. And He was pleased.
His footsteps crushed no grass, His cloak caught no branch and broke no twig. Everything was perfect… made especially for This Day. This Day was the day He would create him. All of the days before This Day lead up to today. Every water molecule, every hair on the bodies of the mammals, every feather in the wings of the birds, every ray of sunshine and every wave of the wind through the fruited trees- they were in wait for this moment.
Lovingly, gently, excited, He reached out and knelt down in the center of the garden. Scooping down, he pulled from the ground a handful of Earth and held her in his palm. Out of his Creation he would create a Man, dependent yet dominant in this culture of Life. He formed the fingertips, using His own fingertips to engrave the gentle lines for Man’s own print. He strung strands of golden-sheathed hair and placed them on his head; He made strong shoulders and gentle palms, softened earlobes and tough soles, Light in his eyes and Song in his voice. And then, when Man’s form was finished, the Designer stooped down and parted with His own Breath, filling his lungs with living air. And Man was Alive.