The Shrug of Darkness
March 24, 2011 § Leave a comment
Once upon a time, the darkness shrugged off the Sun. The earth lay clad in obscurity; the blacks and the blues blended and shared their essence one with the other. For an eternity of the present moment there existed only a void. And it was colorless.
It smelled like misty time, that darkness. You could almost hear the ticking of eternity’s clock across the blended, muddy air where all was gray.
But through the darkness rang the word “Let”, and it was so. A man walked into that darkness and cloaked himself in it. He stitched it together like fig leaves and wine poured out, mingled together into a garment inedible, yet bitter to the touch.
His name was Light Though Unspoken. He wrestled this shrugged-off darkness, uttering the great collapse until the world was reborn and colors more vibrant than before emerged.
Their nakedness. No longer. Hidden.
And then more colors emerged; shades and hues of different breeds; all come down to mix together. Light Though Unspoken watched unseen, still with one hand immersed in the mud. He spoke his breath into the mud; creating and imparting his Special Gift.
And She was beautiful.
Her hair was like liquid fire, even hot to the touch. Her skin was like air on lips of Light and her voice shimmered with warmth. Indeed, none could resist her in her virgin days.
But she shrugged off her purity and replaced it with power. Pride followed, and her Maker wept with one wounded and dirty hand still dripping in darkness. This Child of Light chose dusk.
And the Darkness shrugged even as the darkness shrugs.