Thursday, January 19, 2017

January 19, 2017 - On Being a Seed, Part I


In the beginning that was before the beginning, there was a blinding flash of light.  My eyes were stunned, and everywhere the light pulled at me in all directions.  I was stretched across the universe in an agonizing tearing, and when I had reached the very tips of it, when I could bear no more pain, I snapped back to myself.  Farther and farther I rolled back to myself until I was just a tiny point, invisible to the human eye.  Then the point fell inside of itself and I was gone.  The light could not reach into the void.

Imprisoned.
Deep in the nowhere, I sat huddled in the darkness, cowering in fear of the unknown.  I longed for the light and the pain because it was all that I had known, but that world had passed.  In this new world, I found the vastness of the darkness.  It stretched beyond the universe, which it held like a tiny marble in a child’s hand.  The darkness was silky and soft and smooth.  There was no need to move, no grasping, no pulling, no tearing.  Everything was as it should be.  Everything was balanced.  Everything was perfect.  And eventually, the memory of the Great Light began to fade.  The Darkness poured into me.

Out in the world of light, a hard, spiky prison was built.  They placed me in a cell within that prison for the crimes I had committed against the light, and they sealed it tightly with all the Magic they had.  Then they buried the prison in the depths of the Earth, in the deep, cool darkness.  They could not have known what they had done.

And there I slept in the beauty of death.

[Click here for Part II.]