In the beginning, there was a seed, and the seed was a note. it was a brave little note. It was a valiant note. It heard the inner call “Now grow!” and rang “I am now!” And then it was more than a note: It was a melody.
The melody heard the songs of the world. “Grow,” murmured The Water in the earth. “Grow!” whispered The Promise of Light and Air above. “Grow!” commanded The Nothingness, The Abyss, the places where there should have been Life but there wasn’t, yet. Because the note was just a seed, yet.
(And loud, and oh-so-weighty, was that ‘yet’s command — )
The little note that was a melody weaved the calls of Water and Promise and Abyss into its song. It became more than itself. It went on growing.
And then, in what was once again a new beginning, there was a tearing and a bursting and a world remade, as if some distant voice sang “Let There Be Light Now.”
The Promise of Air, The Promise of Light, The Promise of Open Space to Fill became actualities; the seed that was a melody drew their calls into its song and went on growing. It sang in major key now, and the tune of Nothingness subsided, for Life was there to fill The Great Abyss.
The seed that was a note that was a melody went on singing. But it sang different songs, now. It sang of “Grown”; It sang of “Is.”