Chaos… so primal… so untamed!
He does not bear the shackles of a shape
And dwells in mists of perfection…
First there was the egg, in darkness and legendary,
Enveloped within its oval shape and grown in slumber’s lace…
After ages this was called the curve of space
And even Einstein about this had a theory.
A deafening roar was the beginning
And heard for the ages to come,
Even scientists heard its singing,
In notes of exploding matter was orchestrated by some.
In a perpetual movement of gracious steps,
Vivaciously was birthed and nourished the world transformation.
Twice epochs of eighteen millennia
A god-hero crafted harmony between
The essence of yang and the spirit of yin.
An artisan with the axe in his hand
He brought forth his creations upon the land.
And so, the legend said that were born:
The turtle, the dragon, the phoenix and Qilin the unicorn.
At his death, he brought gifts:
Jade and bones,
Roads and mists,
Pearls and stones,
Mountains and waters,
Edges and pillars,
Rains and thunders,
Soil and stars,
Flora and winds.
Controversial as always is the nature of humans and their kin,
Wisest of all and proud of their origin
As they might have been:
Are they the echo of his soul or parasites of his skin?
Heed the quill’s words that start to spin –
The myths of Pangu are ancient wisdoms of:
The greatness of the boundless universe;
Life and death;
Poverty and wealth;
Arts and inventions;
Nothingness and creations;
The perfect harmony inscribed in the roles we are chosen to enact
And the counterbalance built between and within.