A breath, formed into the atmosphere,
Rained down into the oceans
Was led into a little stream
That fed a spiral fountain.
From there, drops of ocean blood
Fell down into the ground
And mixed with the earth
Forming patterns, from chaos born.
A child, full of wonder, arose
Destined to walk the gardens of Eden.
Uncertainty, its parting present,
Potency its destiny.
A manifest of cosmic will.
The child wandered, hunted, killed and
quenched its thirst from the marbled stone.
And it rejoiced; but as time passed on,
discovered there was nothing else to see,
to hunt, to kill, to drink.
In despair, the Man turned to his Mother
The sight reflected on the water
And returned with a vision of Self
Transparent, he saw a multitude
Of I’s, each with the same spiral inside.
“You, Fountain, who has given me birth
You, who grew me into a Man, powerful and sane,
Save me now from wither, madness and solitude”
The Stone laid unmoved, in silence.
The Stream continued to flow, in perpetual motion.
The Man understood; yet his soul did not rest
But was filled with the Fire of Defiance.
He stepped into the crooked stone
To ascend into the spiral staircase
Leading up, into the heavens high
Where the Breath of the Father was once uttered.
At the staircase’s end, way above the Earth,
Nothing laid, but the blackness of space
And the one primordial molecule, carrying the Word.
“No eternity was ever promised to you, Child.
To travel beyond the Stars, into the marvels of macrocosm,
You must first conquer the smallest, inner void.
To reach the point where universes intersect.
My Word is forgotten, with every division, every new birth.
Learn me, renew me, reach into the end of my telos.”