So, once upon a time the future had no past, and winds
were wafting under wings of Darkness, nothing was asunder.
Our Creator caught with eyes 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, my agony and World’s Humane Inception!”

10 May 2007

Copyright ©2007 Iouri Lazirko