Summary: Sonething that popped into my head while trying to drown out yet another 'Creation Vs. Evolution' debate between my sister and my aunt. Hopefully it isn't too bad.
Some say that the world was created in an explosion, with billions of particles gravitating toward each other until they formed stars and planets, and the world as it is now.
Others say that it was willed into existence by some divine being, who dreamed or shaped the world, followed by the plants, the animals, and finally the people who inhabit it.
They are wrong.
The world was created, and continues to exist, in a dance. A great, never-ending whole in which everything has its own, smaller part. Fire and flood, to create a bare area where the dancers could begin. The winds, music to accompany the dancers; a beat to guide them in their first, faltering steps.
The first steps, trial and error, to shape the mountains and valleys. Shaping and printing upon the earth as footsteps leave their mark in the sand.
Then came adjustments to those steps, making the dance more harmonious, for things to co-exist. Loud, obvious differences, which shake or flood the world as they re-position, or quiet, miniscule corrections, patiently shaping things through the elements and time.
Then there are the dancers.
First were the sun and moon, with the stars watching them. Theirs is a constant, unchanging dance of mutual, distant co-existence. The two great bodies never touch, and seldom cross paths, but their dance is the most vital, controlling the fate of all else. The sun, moon and stars are aloof, gazing down on the others.
The second sets of dancers are the children, the first life. Their steps seem to have no meaning or pattern, existing in the moment, and prone to random change at any time. But that is deceptive, for this carefree dance is that of the first organisms, whose diverse, but steady pattern began the way of change and development that continues to this day.