Ontopoeisis

Sing,

O poet,

Sing the world into being.

Put your words on the potter's wheel.

Build castles from the clay of thought.

From the silk of your voice, spin the web of the corporeal.

For there can

Be no life among the silent.

It is the voice that stirs us, the breath

That moves us, the whispered cry of "Let there be light"

That molds flesh from

the unmade

Darkness.