At the creation of the world, standing before the dark and shapeless cloth of his own making, the tailor God, infinite in mind and thought, limitless in scope, exquisite in detail, took up his scissors and began to snip. The potter God handled his clay and set the wheel spinning. The artist God grasped his brush and put it to the canvas. The composer God opened his musical score and put down the first notes.
Every creative act requires boundaries: the frame, the genre, the use, the pattern. Thus, God stretched a line and laid a cornerstone; he commanded the dawn and the morning to their places; he led forth the constellations and arranged the chains of the Pleiades and the cords of Orion. He measured the waters in the hollow of his hand and gave the ocean its shore. He counted the clouds; he named each star, and they sang for joy. All the sons of God shouted. It was a good creation.
And when he was satisfied with his extravagant, teeming world, he made two people out of the raw materials of his own creation, clay and rib, into the design of man and woman, each bearing his very image. He formed; he breathed; he fashioned; he created them male and female, and the man and woman were good—behold, they were very good.
God, recognizing perfection when he saw it, stayed his hand. It needed no further brush stroke, no more notes, not another seam or spin of the wheel. He was satisfied, and he blessed and sanctified the day marking the finished perfection of it all. He was glad in his creation!