[Naked City] Creation delayed

This is two weeks delayed from the word of the month Naked City Atlanta 5 minute verbal extravaganza, but time is weird and the insanity swirling around the mill incident caused me to be separated from everything for quite some time.  I haven't even been able to return to Terra and my body yet...how long have I been disconnected? Did someone find me? I don't know.  Here is the piece.

In the beginning, there was pain.  In a universe in which everything is infused with life; even that which does not move or reproduce has life and meaning; spirit and anima, this then how could it be otherwise thus? All that is, that was, and that will be in the panorama of stars that skirt the sky was at one point compressed into a ball smaller than the smallest particle man has discovered.  Time wrapped up in tiny amber bands woven and sandwiched between space and matter, and it was so much pressure, so much pain.

It was alive, and it knew.

No, not every universe is the same.  But this universe, this universe? This universe knew.  And knows.  It is aware but you are less than a cell, less than even a single gene in its vast cosmic body.  And still it knows and sometimes it cares.

It is irrelevant to this story, and you are irrevelant to it.  Except that you exist.  And that is because the pain ended.

But like so much pain it began and ended with something new; new pain.  Fire and molten glory spanning at speeds that make the mind dew with gelled beads of madness and phantasmagoria; stars before they were stars, worlds but fire and fury.  Time harmonized and trumpeted with triumph galloping as fast as the concept itself would let it thundering forth across the universe with space right behind it.  Creation was! And it was magnificent.

There was purity in the moment, before there was a moment; the spirits of so many astral projections of those who witness this magnificence, this symphony of stars; chaos and order dancing beneath the surface as laws and mathematics are established, constants that determine the clockwork of everything that is to come and though there is violence conflict this superstring violin reaches its crescendo and an accord is reached, consensus by proxy.

This will be a universe where LIFE is possible, though aeons must pass before it happens, the meaning of all this matter and spirit and glory becomes so much more remarkable since it is witnessed not only in the mind but with naked flesh.  Can you hear it? Can you hear that roar of the heavens through light and warped space that still hasn't stopped and never will; long after the longest star is but a faded memory in heat? But that edge shall scream forth forever.

Nothing can stop it.  The visceral claws of gamma radiation slouching back toward that purity, the memory of what they were at the beginning, screaming a note like their cosmic brethren, beaming on though knowing they will die before them.  For where there is life, there must be death, and all that which is pain in birth and life and being will also come to the dying.

Nothing accepts it.  And matter does not lie like the fully living.  All it knows is how to be, and it is in so many different varieties.  Time is a series of moments, so many moments; the life of time is something alien to many that they care not to dwell on it.  But the living all dwell on it on those final moments, courting time, seducing it for every succulent moment that they can elicit one more breath, blink or heartbeat.

For what is created must die.  But what has been always is.  This moment of creation is eternal and beyond time.  And it will be with you as well.  Always.