The first wakeup call wasn’t enough.
The discotheque of rainbows continued to light
the once calm, serene, black womb.
Depths faded
Tranquility raged
Her child seemed to have brought
Her worst nightmares
His company
More lights of different shapes
And colors
Roamed the amplitude of the once
Deep dark and fertile womb
Discombobulated
Then Confused
Then stunned
Then done.
She wasn’t having it.
She wasn’t going to have any of that.
At all.
She was about to slap all of them again.
But then she remembered what happened
Last time she did that.
“Oh hell no.”
The great black mother thought.
She had to come up with something that would generate the opposite of that last spontaneous result.
Something that could make her think again.
Chaos impaired her faculties.
From the bottom of the primordial waters
Rose the beast.
The great beast whose only appetite were the lights.
The dark mother had her own superior
Solutions.
Into the belly of the great beast
Went one by one
Each light
Of the first self
When they were all gone
The microscopic dot of light
Was able to see his source
For the very first time;
He could see darkness after all.
The great dark mother had no reason to hate.
No reason to destroy.
The lights impregnated the beast.
There they became matter.
On Gods and Myths 