This being my response to this graphic prompt from
God and the Devil have been at it all along,
way before the earth was formed; then as it formed,
and formed from nothing, these two ancient enemies
were at it yet again, each throwing into that
great melting pot which was the earth just then, their own
creations for display - their product placements, we
might call them, forged from their own characters, as their
advertisements, commending them to us. God's part
and his achievements in all this are widely known:
the way he called up darkness and the light, the way
he then spoke us and all the living things of earth
into existence. Parallel with all this, and
trying to keep up, was Satan hard at work and
throwing down his less-than-perfect contributions.
He could not mis-create, though, on the scale of God's
creations, but instead threw down bacteria
and viruses with programmes locked inside for mayhem
and for evil of all kinds: insurgents of a
microscopic size to work their evil wonders
on programmes more divine. Success went to his head
as he found ways to influence creation's path,
and introduced what we are apt to speak of as
design faults in our daily parlance. We are most
aware of those that plague us more directly: so
the prostrate gland is one: that it surrounds a pipe,
the way it does, is not good engineering. Things
can go wrong. The mouth is one: here food and air are asked
to pass each other and to cross in what to all
intents and purposes is empty space. No one
but a devil would have dreamed of such a thing. But
such a thing the devil wrought, and many more to
mar God's plan. And so he tried in other ways as well
to sabotage creation: tried to spoil its colours, taint
the violet of violets, the orange of
its oranges, the blueness of the ocean, and
the range of colourings of human skin. Often
quoted as example are the colours of
the rainbow in the sky. These are as transient
as ever colours came, with no inherent
permanence, and yet the devil could not stain their
beauty or their promise of a triumph for it all.
The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
Hello everyone who follows David King (My Father). On behalf of the family this post is to let you know that Dad sadly passed away, peacefu...
extract from the poem Koi by John Burnside All afternoon we've wandered from the pool to alpine beds and roses ...
A Birthday in April ~ Wordsworth Prompt from The Imaginary Garden with Real Toads (The first of three posts which will celebrate the l...
What makes us suppose that only the living grieve? Now all but lost in this new and familiar world of tall, leaning-together buildings...