FORCE

Nothingness, a vortex, wholly blank,
devoid of light or shadow,
an endless emptiness
without a single shaft of energy.

Suddenly,
in the volatile transfusion of supreme being power,
divine voice utters in booming eloquence,
commanding in pure intended inspiration
within the vast absence,
appearance of the universe,
tempest, naturally teeming,
life sprawling in unbridled quintessence
from a single sound of will.

Time given ticks in the eternal clock
physical reality
forged as dimensional schism from immortal,
aging infused to sculpts
the harvest of evolving life,
born in the inspired miasma
is a mortal mind,
repository of intuitive recollections
from soul's implanted tether to heavenly womb,
having eyes to see ethereal signature
upon what was by shear force of numinous omnipotence,
given animation and splendor.