20 July 2012
Something from nothing
So perfectly formed,
From the breath of a child.
And with excited anticipation life is given, and it grows, to slowly strain at the leash that entraps the rush for freedom.
Teasing, teasing, teasing, further and further to a point beyond no return.
The gentle breath of life has fed an orb of whispered glass to the size of a perfect childish fantasy.
It twists and turns to a symphony of laughter and dances in partnership dressed in shafts of sapphire blue and emerald green.
Wide eyed and shrieking with ecstasy and as only a creator can it is eagerly followed to its sudden and inevitable demise at the end of a God like finger.
The bubble is burst as another breath of life is exhaled and so the cycle of the childish God starts over.
The Childish God • Opuss № I