Even Noah, stepping out
of the Ark, the world stretching
out from his feet in a mighty
display of infinite water—
even he, picking up
the first four loaves of stone,
his faith shaken, querying:
What shred of cloth
can wrap this naked
body? What terror
or bliss will rise
from the receding
tides? But the new
earth speaks
a new language.
Come here, it says,
Come here, then.
Gather beneath a sky
bereft of stars.