Genesis II (27.vi.1975, Townsville)

Nothingness;
an expanse of darkness
stretching to all ends of the universe;
out of a primeval fiery soup came stars,
lighting and burning their way to prominence,
and vortices of angry gases
whipped and whistled their way
through the half-light.

Into a cooling dreamtime
of fluid skies lit with purple
and molten land
was born the planet Earth;
barren, void, fruitless,
caught in the grip of a powerful and haughty sun.

Time upon time,
spinning, spinning,
going nowhere in the conclusion
of prescribing an endless circle.

Dead,
the fire in the sky;
its ghost danced on blue ashes:
Creation hung waiting.

Moonlight on a peaceful Earth
of graceful seas and subdued land,
Creation hung waiting.

A single spark to come;
Creation hung waiting.

A blinding flash,
quintessence of dust and
essence of quicksilver;
flame leaping sharply into the ever-starred sky;
unquenchable,
eternal as its maker,
life stood naked.