it always begins as something small –
a pair of seeds losing themselves in zygote,
pursuing refuge in uterine darkness;
a tiny spark of light amidst collapsing stardust,
nebulous particles deep in cold black space;
or perhaps just a wish, a dream, a quiet moment,
glowing beneath the surface of life’s chatter.
i do not know who or what it is –
or how it will come to birth.
i simply know what is.
at first, all i see is that tiny spot of brightness
suspended in abyss, void of shadow or form.
frightened and fearless in its uncertainty,
it waits, it struggles, it pushes forward and draws back,
listening for the gentle whisper of wings,
the hovering from above that will define it.
hearing the Word, the birth begins.
listening, i hear.
watching, i behold.
not knowing what is before me.
like a spark one blows upon, i see the fire blaze,
an unfurling frenzy of light and life
splashing itself over the naked canvas
yet never quenching its undying thirst for more.
worlds are born and thrown into orbit –
spinning and singing, dancing and laughing,
an explosion of brilliant joy.
blinded by the light,
humbled before Him,
(Dear Reader: the first image was the very beginning of a painting; the second, its completion. As a photo reference, I used the image of a galaxy received by the Hubble telescope.)