Chasing Down the Day

For a fallen man there came a most engaging metaphor; the light persists while consciousness endures, streams out across the empty spaces particle and wave, and unconfined, immediate and still abstract, dubious as wind whose origin is steeped in mystery, whose end forever lost in the unknown, as is creation of a mind, reaching out beyond the galaxies to seek where history began. And then antonymous, a mindless rule opposed, squeezing from its barren birth canal to celebrate an instant death (god from god light from light very god from very god) while torches blazed in protest, the light not of itself, illuminated just itself alone! And there was evening; there was morning on that first stupendous day. So the wars began. So the gods processed in irony, and so the little people far below held festivals of light in triumph over dark until the sun burned out, their cannons fired no more, and they no longer could remember how to pray. ~