Antediluvian Depths

My shadow struck the earth and shattered

into a million butterflies at dawn.

Darkness immersed itself in an ocean of light

and found treasures there

that reflected back the stars.

I have wept such that my tears have risen up

in a cloud of mist that veiled me

shielded me from the eyes

of those whose cups I would fill

and make drunk on the sweet nectar of my song.

The cloud lifts, and, now with

the grace of a once-hidden beauty revealed,

my voice takes over where my tears left off.

Whose tears are these that mix with my own?

This question hangs like the sun—a vision

unattainable by the eyes—over my head,

and my every breath tells a story that began

in the antediluvian depths, where love met hate

and day met night, and made peace with one another
before creating life.