Sunday, June 22, 2008
Poem: Genesis 1
You wake at the dawn of dawn,
the moment before light breaks
the monotonous horizon, when the sky is still dark
and yet you feel the promise of light,
and even before the first robin breaks into song,
you are sure of the day.
The moment reminds you of creation,
of that fairy tale you could never quite grasp,
of something, everything,
being formed by God's will and imagination,
out of nothing.
It was not the creation you could not fanthom,
but the nothing,
an emptiness vast as the unformed universe,
an unimaginable emptiness.
Unimagined that is,
until your own life disintegrated,
and you lost heart, soul, your very self
and you suddenly understood the horror
of the eternity before creation,
the nothing that existed
who sees life where they is no life,
not ressurecting you,
but creating anew,
something out of nothing,
and you understand the truth
of that first chapter,
that creation is true, and never, ever,
The picture was taken in the gardens at Winterthur, one of the Dupont Mansions in Delaware that we visited on our vacation this past week. You may click on it for a larger version. The poem was written a couple of weeks ago, on a work trip to Atlanta.