Birth of Beauty

There is Nothing. No Light, no Darkness, no color. Silence reigns in the Void. Time is meaningless—it does not exist.

Then, suddenly, the Silence is shattered by a Voice. There are no words, only one clear note that fills the Void. There is no longer Nothing. Light bursts into life, and moments later her brother, Darkness, is born. The Voice changes the note, singing warmth and color into the Void. Light and Darkness begin to dance, intertwining and adding their voices to the One.

Suddenly another Sibling, three in one, is born with a splash. Water rises up and joins her siblings in their intricate dance. She spins and twists in the center, and separates into three, but only two come back together, Ice remaining free, Water’s freezing twin. They dance together, and the Voice is pleased.

With Light comes warmth, and Water changes form once again. Clouds obscure her form, and they collide as another word is spoken, birthing another child with a crash and a flash. Crackling Lightning rises to greet Life, and the Voice sings again, bringing Fire forth as well. The children gather, radiating the Love of the Voice, who is not yet finished. There is much left to do.

Rock, solid and patient, is formed. He joins with Water and together they help the Voice sing the World into existence. Land grows up, creating proud, snow-capped mountains and gentle, rolling plains. Seas churn and swollen mountain streams join to create winding rivers. And the Voice sings over it, a Spirit coming down to bless it.

With the blessing, grasses and trees erupt from the soil, and from them rise two more siblings—one from the Plants, the other the essence of Shape, of form.

Then the Voice and the Spirit, who are as one, are revealed in shimmering glory, and with Shape they descend upon the lands and the Waters. The last child leaps up to meet them. Laughing and whistling her breathy song, Wind swirls around her siblings and Mother.

Living, walking animals are born, formed by Shape under the guiding hands of the Spirit. The Mother breathes Life into them, and they thrive.

Mother and Spirit join together, and in their image create more children—mortal, unique. The rest of the Children gather around, eager to see and to bless in their own ways.

Time begins, and history unfolds. The Mother and the Spirit retreat, preparing their own dwelling. It shines brightly in the mortal skies: golden by day, silver by night.

The Children continue to dance, many favoring the mortals with gifts and blessings, walking among them and taking on their appearance. Light and Darkness continue their intricate ballet, intertwining and still creating, for the process is a never ending cycle.

And the mortal children look up at the sky in wonder, seeing the home of their Creator. It is like the diamonds of the nighttime sky, but so much larger and so much more beautiful—and so bright that they cannot bear to look at it for long. “It is a star,” they say. “The home of the Creating Mother.” They reach for the Star, singing and dancing in the fashion they were created. And they continue creating, for they are made in the image of a creator. And the Mother and the Spirit smile and rest, for they see that it is good.