The Leaves of the Fig Were Sewn

From The Craftsman at Play in Creation:

The Holy Spirit in the sky
Writes in a hand that’s vast
A message unto you and I
In the cosmos wheeling past

When burning sunset fades to black,
When night gives way to day,
Know the power that all things lack:
That they shall not fade away

For no thing can keep, by tooth or claw,
Existence of its own
It was to hide from this, the truth they saw,
The leaves of the fig were sewn