Long, long ago when the earth was not yet finished,
there was water. 
Everything was soft and liquid
but since that was all there was;
it was the same as nothing.
Then came darkness
and the darkness made a sky.
Once there was a sky above the water
there was an up and there was a down
and most important there was a wet
and there was a dry.
The darkness was not without features,
there were clouds
and best of all there were stars.
With a sky above it
the water could stretch from horizon to horizon
and become an ocean;
a mother womb with waves

Then the darkness lay upon the water.
There was a magic place
where the flesh of the water
touched the skin of the sky
and the stars and the heavens
were reflected on the mirror surface
of the water. 
As they rubbed against each other,
the water and the darkness,
the friction made a noise
like the sound at the edge of a pond;
the percussive drum beat
of ripples against granite,
the steady rhythm of the song of frogs.

There on the water, in the darkness, 
with the stars reflected
atop the eternal ocean
with the noise 
created by current and stone
there arrived a very strong wind,
and the first child was born.

[Gary Every is an award winning journalist, slam poet, teacher, storyteller, and avid hiker.  He has been nominated for the Rhysling Award seven times.]