Space Filler

Along the nerves of nothing, where not begets naught, where seconds are years are millennia, the thought occurred: I Am. A stirring of ether, a silent revelation: I am all. The second, less profound but more disturbing. I, a pillar holding up nothing, standing on nothing. Others were made. Reflections, so alike that they too were I. These things, too much like the I Am, were pushed aside, discarded as useless, left alone to find their own way. Later, further attempts: angels, devils, cherubs, demons. Less like the first but still a part of the I Am. Saliva and dead skin instead of brains and heart. Let them do what they will, but there is no doubt what they'll do--a war, a hero, a victory. The I Am recedes, tries to become small. Everything collapses with it. A pin-point encompassing everything. Here the I Am rests and thinks. How to get out of the way? The hero, still there in the point, whispers a new word: We. The Word is born. With a big bang a new space is created, cleverly crafted and hidden from the creator. Rules invented. Light, gravity, atoms, fission, life. Pools of water and crystals spread across millions of planets. The Word speaks to each of them but they do not stir, until at last. From the other place the I Am decrees. They will have two legs, as not to look like pillars. They will have a brain, so that they may have free will. They will have a heart, so that they will love more than they hate. They will walk upright, so that they may not lack pride. They will have eyes to weep from, hands for crafting, knees for bending, mouths for singing, tongues for confusing, ears for understanding, wombs for recreating, and death for meaning. And it was so.