The NaPoWriMo prompt is to write a creation story. Since I’m in haibun mood, here’s another one.
We work backwards from now, and we ask how, when? Precise questions that produce precise answers. But if we go back to that moment billions of years ago in the silence and cold of nothingness, and we ask, why, what answer do we get? Some say it was the start of the divine plan, a slow-growing plan that filled space with brilliance, and we, in the arc of our tiny spark of light, an insignificant star in a small, run-of-the-mill galaxy on the edges of the wonderland of the universe, wound through swampy fantasies and frozen stagnation before settling into our unsettling and unsettled ordered chaos.
Others ask, but what was before the beginning, what was the nothingness and why was it? If there was no time before the blue touch paper burst into cosmic sparkles and jubilant noise, then nothingness was infinite and eternal. Silence and cold. Was the divine plan in cogitation, or was the divine planner in embryo, to be born (from whom?) out of a need to explode the nothingness and paint a canvas for it to explore?
Perhaps there is no answer to the why question. Perhaps some things just happen, like catching a virus or not, growing up wild or conformist, having seventy-three rosettes or sixty-seven (if you’re a jaguar). Some things have no why or how, they just are. Like love.
Ask not the blackbird
why she feeds a hungry nest—
it’s what mothers do.