Thursday, 02 October 2014 08:34

Creation Myth Featured

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Creation Myth

(Posted on National Poetry day 2014. Parts 2 & 3 added Oct. 22nd.)


I

In the beginning was the word.

 

The word was graceful and the word was strong.

The word floated in the formless void

and the darkness did not understand it.

 

The word spoke itself. It spoke to itself.

The darkness was not listening.

 

Cradled in chaos, it sang itself to sleep,

awoke and hugged itself for joy.

 

One thing led to another. The word

vibrated, swelled in ecstasy, begat

another word. The darkness disapproved.

 

Delirious with harmony, the words

whirled and spoke and sang, though only they

could hear themselves, the darkness was stone deaf.

 

Careening madly through the empty dark,

the words collided, danced and sparked, gave birth

to strings and clouds and spirals of new words

that coalesced, hanging in constellations,

all sparkly in the newly-spoken light.

 

The darkness was unimpressed. But the word

was pleased and saw that it was good.

And the word rested from its labours.

 

And the evening and the morning were the first day.


II

In the beginning, the Word imagined

a firmament. It spoke, and it was so.

The darkness retreated a little.


Later, when the song lines had spun their webs,

spidering out across the new-made earth,

mapping out the newly-spoken land,

separating sky from mountain,

singing the oceans into their places,

the Word sat back and smiled. The darkness scowled.

 

And the evening and the morning were the second day.


III


In the beginning, the Word considered

the quiet joys of a peaceful garden.

The darkness shuddered apprehensively.


So birds, newly fledged, were despatched to fly;

a raven and a dove, singing out loud

across the dry, grey, silent wilderness.


Under their song, the earth brought forth grasses,

trees yielded fruit whose seed was in itself,

and the beasts, after their kind, multiplied.


The Word saw that it was good. The darkness

withdrew behind the new moon, mortified.


“I know a place.” Said the brand-new snake,

grinning, as he practised making a noose.

“East of here a bit, four rivers, nice trees.”


So the Word sat in the humming of the garden,

quietly naming things into existence,

the raven, snake and dove for company.


“What shall we call those two-legged creatures?”

Wondered the Word. The snake smirked wordlessly.

The darkness looked down and began to plot.


And the evening and the morning were the third day.

DJR.

Read 1086 times Last modified on Wednesday, 22 October 2014 13:20