Darkness. Chaos. Void. Emptiness—
Story of how the world began.
Over the depths of meaninglessness, when beauty and goodness had no form,
רוח [1] of the Lord hovered—
The invisible energy, life, or breath set to the task,
As Mother, birthing complexity of atomic particles, precisions of gravity, phenomena, canopies, and tapestries.
The intimate and intricate details of the amoeba, the cactus and the rose, the electromagnetism of light waves.
The taken-for-granted oxygen and the rapidly depleting oils.
Darkness. Chaos.Void. Emptiness.Vanity. Violence—
A day in the world we live in.
Over the depths of the void,
רוח of the Lord hovers,
Yet none to see or know—
Wonder replaced by haste,
Gratitude by greed,
Wisdom by ignorance,
Harmony with selfishness,
Calm by the clamour.
Familiarity has bred contempt.
“All things bright and beautiful…
The Lord God made them all.”
Our songs have ceased.
The void threatens to swallow, the dark refrains to retreat.
רוח still hovers in the gentle breeze,
In the chirpings of a cricket,
In the waters that quench our thirst, in tea leaves,
In the sonnet of a bird,
In the waves of the ocean and the moon,
In the colours of the rainbow.
In the spring, the dead foliage makes space for new life.
Endless presence of a Creator.
Perhaps our songs have ceased because our wonder has,
Perhaps our wonder has ceased because of the groanings of the creation.
Perhaps, we know not hope because we know not of the bird that sows not, reaps not and yet sings.
Darkness. Chaos. Void. Emptiness—
We see no God.
We sing no songs.
We pass to posterity a world in tales, stories and regrets.
A world decomposing in its attempt to sustain—
Leaves no room for wonder and witness of the רוח amongst us, in our lungs, over us, around us.
Perhaps, when creation sings, we will sing too.
[1] Ruach– The Hebrew word for “spirit, breath or wind”
