Bryan Thao Worra Poet Free verse

In the Beginning

Depending on the tradition, you hear:
There was nothing, or there was chaos.
No time, no space, not even a single atom
 
Not a ray of light, a whisper,
No scent of papaya or rivers.
 
             Not a body, not a soul.
             Not a ghost of a dok champa
 
             Or even a memory
 
Of a touch in the darkness,
Or a taste of a home-cooked meal from 
 
             A tiny garden in the window
             Of a dreaming woman
 
Asleep amid her books and clothes,
Her brushes and tools.
 
       In the beginning, though, there
       Was no hate, no war, no anger,
 
       No constant return to life after life
       Because of our ignorance and lusts.
 
Still, I look back with no regrets
At our world of fires and love, of ice and hope.
 
                My mouth opens in song
                In the brief time upon Earth I have,
 
Creating amid destruction. 
                                             Growing against silence.

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