i. he peers down at the empty void
he has yet to create and he hesitates;
fingertips tremble at the calm and the
unknown and he can’t tell if it is dark
or if it is beautiful
ii. what creates also destroys.
strength and beauty go hand in hand,
the darkness cries out; *when did you
decide i was not strong enough to shine?*
and he weeps for what he has done.
iii. “look what i made for you,” he says
to the darkness, “there is life here. it is
beautiful.” but the darkness says nothing.
it fades behind the mountain peaks.
*what is beauty worth to me when i cannot
stay long enough to see it?*
iv. he knows what it’s like to be alone,
so he does the best that he can. “look
what i made for you,” he says to the
darkness. “i made this new life for you.”
the darkness says nothing, but it smiles,
and the stars begin to speak to it.
v. he knows what it’s like to be alone,
and now it’s the only thing he knows.
the darkness is gone, he only has light.
“light is good,” he thinks. “but it is not beautiful.”
i may not be beautiful, light rebuttals,
but i can show you all that is.
vi. you have created so much life, light says
but what about creating a life for yourself?
he could do so, but he does not want to. instead,
he creates what is second best: everything he ever
hoped to be, with flesh and blood and two legs and
two feet. “this one is special,” he says.
it reminds me of you, the darkness whispers.
vii. light dips away and the darkness returns,
but it is not distracted by its new friends: the
sun, the moon, the stars, the galaxies;
instead, it engulfs him and all of his weariness.
rest, the darkness whispers. *you have made
so much beauty already.*
his eyes close.
he remembers the void.
he knows now.
it was dark.
it was dark, and god, it was
beautiful.
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 1:14 AM UTC
i. he peers down at the empty void
he has yet to create and he hesitates;
fingertips tremble at the calm and the
unknown and he can’t tell if it is dark
or if it is beautiful
ii. what creates also destroys.
strength and beauty go hand in hand,
the darkness cries out; *when did you
decide i was not strong enough to shine?*
and he weeps for what he has done.
iii. “look what i made for you,” he says
to the darkness, “there is life here. it is
beautiful.” but the darkness says nothing.
it fades behind the mountain peaks.
*what is beauty worth to me when i cannot
stay long enough to see it?*
iv. he knows what it’s like to be alone,
so he does the best that he can. “look
what i made for you,” he says to the
darkness. “i made this new life for you.”
the darkness says nothing, but it smiles,
and the stars begin to speak to it.
v. he knows what it’s like to be alone,
and now it’s the only thing he knows.
the darkness is gone, he only has light.
“light is good,” he thinks. “but it is not beautiful.”
i may not be beautiful, light rebuttals,
but i can show you all that is.
vi. you have created so much life, light says
but what about creating a life for yourself?
he could do so, but he does not want to. instead,
he creates what is second best: everything he ever
hoped to be, with flesh and blood and two legs and
two feet. “this one is special,” he says.
it reminds me of you, the darkness whispers.
vii. light dips away and the darkness returns,
but it is not distracted by its new friends: the
sun, the moon, the stars, the galaxies;
instead, it engulfs him and all of his weariness.
rest, the darkness whispers. *you have made
so much beauty already.*
his eyes close.
he remembers the void.
he knows now.
it was dark.
it was dark, and god, it was
beautiful.
god creates the heavens & the earth in six days
