Awakening the Cosmos – A 7-Day Praise-Poem

1. Uncreated Light – God speaks; raw light shatters darkness into molten dawn.
2. Vault of Breath – Waters part, sky domes; sapphire firmament cradles unborn storms.
3. Green Awakening – Seas recede, land rises; seeds burst into orchards of quiet fire.
4. Lamps of Eternity – Sun, moon, stars hung as censer, coin, and nails in night’s scroll.
5. Choir of the Deep – Oceans teem; leviathan and minnow sing in silver symphony.
6. Image-Bearer – Dust breathes, man and woman walk as kings naming miracle and ache.
7. Holy Pause – Creation halts in perfect hush; Sabbath dew crowns the finished world.

Day 1: The Uncreated Light
Before the ledger of time was inked,
You spoke, and darkness learned its name—
not absence, but a velvet womb
where silence pooled like liquid obsidian.
Then light—
not the sun’s borrowed coin,
but the raw mint of Your breath—
struck the void like flint on steel.
It scattered in shards of molten gold,
each photon a syllable of Your joy,
and the abyss, astonished,
blushed into morning.
Praise the Voice that split the night
and taught the dark to dream.

Day 2: The Vault of Breath
You lifted the waters like a curtain
and stretched a sky between—
a hammered sheet of sapphire,
thin as a lover’s sigh,
yet strong enough to hold
the thunder’s unborn roar.
Clouds drifted in like sheep
fresh-shorn of storm,
their underbellies bruised with rain.
The deep below kept its ancient counsel,
mirroring the heavens in a glass of salt.
Praise the Architect who set a dome
where breath could learn to fly.

Day 3: The Green Awakening
You gathered the seas in Your cupped hands,
and land rose—
not timid, but eager—
shoulders of granite, hips of loam,
a body ready to be clothed.
Seeds cracked open like secrets,
unfurled green tongues to taste the sun.
Orchards erupted in quiet fire,
petals the color of bruised dawn;
vines stitched the earth with emerald thread.
Every root a prayer,
every leaf a hallelujah.
Praise the Gardener whose whisper
turned dust to orchestra.

Day 4: The Lamps of Eternity
You hung the sun like a censer
swinging incense of molten noon;
the moon, a silver coin
pressed to the lip of night.
Stars—
not pinpricks, but nails
driven through the dark to hold it open—
spilled their ancient light
across the scroll of space.
Galaxies wheeled in slow sarabande,
comets trailed white fire like bridal veils.
Praise the Lamplighter who taught time
to keep its appointments.

Day 5: The Choir of the Deep
The seas convulsed with delight—
scales flashed like shattered mirrors,
wings of gulls stitched sky to wave.
Leviathan sang bass in the abyss,
while minnows piped descants
in silver filigree.
Eagles carved the wind with knives of bone,
their shadows racing over dunes.
Every creature a note
in the wild hymn of becoming.
Praise the Composer who tuned the waters
to a symphony of breath.

Day 6: The Image-Bearer
You stooped,
gathered dust as a sculptor gathers clay,
and breathed.
The clod flinched,
then stood—
adam, red as the earth he came from,
eyes wide with borrowed starlight.
Beside him, woman—
rib curved like a crescent moon,
laughter already blooming in her throat.
They walked among the beasts
as kings in a court of miracles,
naming lion, naming lamb,
naming the ache inside their chests.
Praise the Potter who signed His work
with a heartbeat.

Day 7: The Holy Pause
You ceased.
Not from weariness,
but from the perfection of enough.
The world spun on its axis
like a top You set in motion,
humming with finished grace.
You sat—
if sitting is what gods do—
and the silence was a sanctuary.
Sabbath settled like dew on cedar,
like mercy on the wounded world.
Praise the Rest-Giver
who taught creation
the art of being still
and knowing.