The second day

(I saw the spirit descending from heaven like a dove)

A wind blew up.  There is
a turbulence that
             drags at the
   tension of the surface, that
   loosens the bonds between
   molecules,
   starts to scatter them.
              In the white
            water where the foam
          flies and the froth forms
        shapes that feel familiar, flickering
      like flames (but there have been no flames yet) -
    in the white waters we
  see arms and legs,
and the vague features of something floating...
features that hint at a future idea, perhaps,
at a possible method of movement.
   The separation of light and
  fear, of the waters and the other,
 the separation of the calm and the restless;
the beginning of the restless,
of the rest.

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