Part One

In the time before the coming of Man, before he learned to count the
stars in the Heaven, and name the Seas that surrounded him, there was
a morning star that danced in the deep blue sky at dawn’s first
light. This was the time when wisdom and thoughts were not in man for
he was not created yet. But there was whisperings in the inky night,
and hushed tales reaching earth from distant stars, and in great
tales yet to be stored in the hold of the moon, whose round sails
traversed the sky, its sails adjusted and trimmed to the moods of the
months and seasons, but not to the moods man, for even the gods did
not have their whims as yet.

Then there was talking amongst the great rocks that buttressed into
the sea, so deep and ancient the voices that only the seagulls could
hear them and amass took flight over the horizon. There were rumors
in the pounding waves as they marched to the shore that eternity was
coming to dwell on Earth, and until then, only the breaking waves
could count it. And they consulted the prophets in the rocks who had
no form, who let the great waves take them bit by bit and turn them
into sand till they fell like colossus back into the sea. But they
were not vanquished for they dwelt in the spirit of all the land and
had the wisdom to know they were not immortal, that their demise
would take almost forever. But by then they would be wise, almost as
wise as the gods, and by then, they would go wherever the gods would
lead them, like dust captured in the tails of comets, they will
follow.

But this rumor would not abate, for they did not understand the
nature of it, from where it came, or where it would wend. Even the
fish in the sea became agitated, and the shellfish wiggled deeper
into the sand as if a great storm was brewing.

“Ahh!” the wisdom in the sea and rocks sighed with relief. “It is a
great storm the god have in store for us. So, this is the nature of
the rumor. But, we have withstood the greatest forces the gods have
hurled at us. We can survive any tempest. Let it come and do its
worst.”

But in the Night they became aware it was longer, and the rumor would
not desist. Now the birds on the land, and the song in the tree began
to understand, and the great fatherly Night was awoken. Stroking his
jet black beard, where gather a thousand stars, his deep piercing
blue eyes searched for the offender, the rebels, so he might blot
them out then file their existance atop the mountain tops pressed in
stone. So many great bragarts had come and gone.

“What is it that awakens all that should be asleep, what nocturnal
song is this that steals the Earth’s deep slumber, that wakes me
falsely before it is time? Best not let the rising sun catch you at
such play; for he is jealous of what you do when he is away. I his
grandfather am too old for this ruckus, and I am left in charge of
you like a nurse maid. Now return to your sleep, and be patient.” he
ordered.

There was grumbling in the sea and rocks who were insulted by the
Night. For their wisdom was treated like the buzzing of insects, and
collectively they protested.

“Perhaps it is better for you to retire old man, and take your
insults with you. For you are never here to see who you are really
talking to. You are blind to how beautiful the world really is, and
how great is our drama that unfolds at the signal of dawn’s rainbow,
the ribbons of celebration that herald the arrival of your golden
grandson. Oh how festive we can be, how young and eternal as we
rejoice, as the color of the world returns – and the turquoise sea
crashes like symbols upon the majesty of the cliffs!”

And now the animals joined in this rebellion and the Night gave out a
great “Hush!
Quiet you fools. I have seen your antics. I have seen them reflected
in the moon that appears in the day. It is my mirror I hold, for as
you know I am full of curiosity. I might be senile and forgetful, but
not as forgetful as you. The language of my time appears distorted,
but not as distorted and forgetful as your dreams. Now to sleep with
your arrogance, for you know I forget nothing. In your sleep I am
your master, and it all comes back to haunt you. The ghost of your
days are false, as is the false dawn.

Now for those whom sleep can not return to, I will have my daughter
sing you a lullaby of the morning. For she is like a mother who has
risen early to do her chores. She lights the little candle in the sky
and her brightness clears the sleep from all who behold her. She is
like my dear daughter. Who speaks ill of her? I will not ever give
her away. She is too precious to me. To pure and shy. What goes on in
the day is none of my business, or hers. It is full of arrogance,
just as the Sun is. And even from him she shys away.

So come my daughter, and sing a quiet refrain. You are dutiful and
prompt. You are patient and kind. Come, and sing a song about
humility.”

But as the great Night turned to retire, his daughter did not sing.
And this filled the Night with dread. Had she rebelled against him
too? He was afraid to look fearing the mockery of the earth, for her
creatures were now in frenzy of whispering that gave the Night a
chill on his back.
“Look oh fatherly Night. Your daughter is gone. She is not there”

All beheld this were sad and alarmed, for they knew the Night had
spoken wisely. Was this the rumor they had heard that was now a
Nightmare; for all who beheld her were calmed by her beauty and her
fresh young steadiness, and above all, her loyalty. Her song and her
voice were liken to the Angels – who visit the earth.

Now the stars waning in the sky twinkled with confusion, and they
beheld from their perch a great black cloud rising from the middle of
the sea. And suddenly the sea was tossed into a tempest, and even it
was afraid, and the sea is never afraid. And it embraced the wise
souls within the rocks who hugged the rocks like a frightened child,
but could not hold on, and slid back into the churning froth.

The trees on the edge of the land were trying to flee from the cloud,
shuddering in fear. Their roots held for a little while, and then
they were felled. The creatures on the land ran for cover, but the
shrieks of the storm that ran faster they, and were in their dens
before them, filling them with dread. The birds on the cliffs, and
the rocks could cling on, and like leaves from a great oak they were
plucked and carried in a great vortex around the black beating wings
of the cloud that made the sea go where it did not want to go. Even
the great fish in the sea were turned round and round. All but the
clam was not safe.

Then there came from the menacing cloud and a bolt of lightening that
turned the night into day. The Night cried out; “I am blind!” And the
sea let go a terrible moan as a bolt of lightening pierced its depth,
its ever present darkness, and not even the clam was spared as it
tried to burl deeper into the sand, and was struck one mighty – but
gentle blow.