The act of creation is the greatest art.
You must think of the whole as you create each part.
Things put in conflict must balance as well,
or what was once heaven can turn into hell.
Every yin has its yang as dusk has its dawn.
Every awakening gives way to night’s yawn.
But why peace must be broken by violence and war
is something that tests one’s faith at its core.
When the world is unbalanced by warfare’s grim sin,
It seems perhaps nature’s starting over again
to create a world less given to baking
recipes of destruction that will be our unmaking.
These nuclear toys require such careful tending,
or it’s become clear we’ll create our own ending.
And next time perhaps our creator will find
a recipe that doesn’t include mankind.
The prompt for day 19 of NaPoWriMo is to create a creation myth poem.
Her statement that she’d had a vision
was met by general derision;
so though she tried to warn them all,
they heeded nothing but “last call!”
So while she stocked up her provisions,
they hemmed and hawed with their decisions
and had a round of boozy toasts–
gave their laments, boasted their boasts.
Then they went west while she went east
and thus were eaten by the beast
or overtaken by the flood.
Soaked in water or in blood.
The moral of this little tale
is heed your mystics, or learn to bail
or run faster than the beast
lest you become his morning’s feast
or starve to death in time of drought.
Her warnings met with only doubt
instead of action to stem the tide,
by those who stood as one. And died.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Decisions, Decisions.”How are you more likely to make an important decision — by reasoning through it, or by going with your gut?