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.
