It is not good that man should be alone,
God thought, and plucked a rib from Adam’s chest.
Thus He made Eve, the bone of Adam’s bone,
flesh of his flesh, creation’s crown the best.
Though taken out of man, she was not man,
but woman: lovely, foreign, and when he
saw her, he stopped as time itself began,
Then exhaled and invented poetry.
Who was she, Eve, now we, her daughters, ask?
Made neither slave nor siren, she was birthed
to clothe herself with strength for mankind’s task
of image-bearing God upon the earth.
We are His vessels precious, called to do
God’s work with Him: subdue, restore, renew.