A faint ember emerges from the womb of an abyss,
Born into the stark and barren silence of endless emptiness...
It's dim light softly pulsing with small tremblings of energy -
Would not the tiniest disturbance shatter it's fragility?
For like a weak and pallid flower threatening to unbloom,
This frail, delicate form might quickly wither to it's doom.
But then a perfect power erupts - a blast of a chaos and harmony:
The first glimmers and sparks of life disperse in radiant scatterings;
And so the marvel continues to explode, to expand without pause,
Slashing at the darkness as though it's rays of light were claws...
Growing ever vaster, churning, like a whirling beast of flame,
Lighting all the nothingness, til all the nothingness has been claimed.
Comments about this poem (Emerging Ember by Jonathan Platt )
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