End of Exodus

　　Make all the transformations which the heart shall dictate

　　I formed the rivers, shaped the flow of the

　　water,

　　pushed the trees to grow upward like giants of

　　history.

　　I planted the weeds and their bright, flowery

　　counterparts.

　　Dropped the land low and raised it high as

　　skyscrapers.

　　Fluffed the clouds like throws and began the

　　edges

　　of a city, tilling the ground with a fingernail and The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

　　lifting

　　the houses like toy soldiers. I made the streets, the

　　cats

　　purring in darkness, the arching street lights and the

　　scent

　　of fried donuts drifting over the pier. I made the street

　　benches

　　and the ink for pens and doodles and the apples that

　　blossom

　　like bees. A creation that flows like breath and breathes its

　　own

　　life in like the gentle whisper of night dreams. I was a

　　creature

　　of creation, of making the beauty of small things, the

　　might

　　of big things, the linking that bridged the

　　seams.

　　There would be no more wandering in the

　　wilderness,

　　no more strangers in a strange land, no more trying to

　　belong

　　when the point was to stand out, stand up, and find it

　　good.