IN THE BEGINNING

IN THE BEGINNING . . . THERE WAS LOVE. And it could not be seen, and it could not be felt. But it was, and the air was filled with it. And it was good to breathe. And the mountain spring cascaded with it. And it was good to drink.

And the sun rose over the mountain and looked, and smiled. And love sprouted seeds, and grass grew out of the earth. And bushes blossomed, and flowers bloomed, and the trees were laden with love. And its fruit was good to eat.

And a sweet-smelling rain came whispering down and watered the seeds with love. And a drop of creation fell into a brook and another in the hollow of a tree. And fish splashed in the pond in shimmering colors, with scales and gills. And the deer leapt over the brook and into the forest, and the bird and the frog exchanged a love song. And it was good to hear. And it was good to see. And it was good to feel.

AND A WIND BLEW THROUGH THE CANYON, and an echo came out of the deep. And the earth shook for a moment . . . then all was still. Then from the womb came we and saw. From the womb came we and heard. From the womb came we and were. And we shook our heads and we knew. And we knew we had eyes to see with. And we knew we had ears to hear with. And we knew we had a life to live.

And we cast our nets into the water and gathered the fish and the fowl. And we borrowed from the money changers in the temple and built our towers of wisdom. And we indulged in deceit, and we indulged in arrogance, and were quickly expelled from the garden. And we sought to improve on nature and spoiled the air with the fumes of our trash, and soiled the water with the stench of our waste disposal.

And the deer died, and the soil turned gray, and the fish swam on their bellies. And the flowers faded, and the trees fell, and a scream was heard from the cradle. And the rains came down for one hundred days and washed us all away.

IN THE END . . . THERE WAS LOVE. And it could not be seen, and it could not be felt. But it was, and the air was filled with it, and the mountain spring cascaded with it. And it was good to breathe. And it was good to drink.

Jay Frankston
Little River, CA 95456
wlp@mcn.org