Inception

So, once upon a time
the future had no past and winds
were wafting under wings of Darkness,
nothing was asunder.
And then Creator’s eye
tracked down the butterfly and pinned
its lightless flow. What a delighted
piercing with a thunder!

He kept evolving souls
and circulating them in dust.
For billions years
his theory, as time, was spongy-growing,
till Master got it,
if the truth be told, he really must
to squeeze the sponge to bless the dust
and muddle up with Love in...

And clay was named; the stickiness
was fortuned to be right.
He put his heart to make alike…
and eyes with less precision.
The process toiled:
an imagination, burning, light…
With first acknowledged copy rights,
the World was glued to Vision.

Suppressed by swarms of trial-error bugs,
smash after smash,
the Masterpiece was still sustained
frustratingly unfinished.
Oh, God, he accidently pulled
his feathered-white eyelash.
Pellucid sense was born
and desperate concerns diminished.

First angel’s wings, first drafts of virtue,
tuning of a soul.
Oh, how celestial the eyes
and deep as own perfection.
“My darling dolly, Lucifer,
I’m ready to extol!”
“You are my son of agonies and sins.
You – my Inception!”

May 10, 2007

Iouri Lazirko
Copyright ©2007 Iouri Lazirko