I was alone with the earth and the sun
before you came along: there was no life, not
then, not even song. My hope had been lost to
the breeze, dreams strung up on imagined pop
lar trees. Before bees, before Ramses. You we
re still nebular then, too embryonic to be captu
red by the tip of my fountain pen so I was left to
despair, to beat hard ground until it yielded love
somewhere. This was before the Lord’s prayer,
before Lord. And I swear I cried gold on the day
the moon broke its mould and released you. Out
of the strata of the rock and the bacteria of yet un
invented livestock, you came forth:
my new sun.
In The Beginning
