Creation: Angelic Perspective

Cassie Keller Cole

In the garden angels saw man
unfold like a snake’s
slick coils weaving over sand
he and she sighed like silk and spilled
beyond the comparison of stars.
The angels heard the guttural cry
of Abel as his blood nurtured soil,
and the breathy sweaty gasp
of Cain when he witnessed the wounded
soul: himself, lying next to his brother.
For ages, angels lunged forward
longing for life’s watery elixir
to linger on their mouths—parched
from oversong and harmony;
they want to touch disjunction,
know harsh cords against their uncalloused
minds. They ache for the rippling
green potential of sin
again.