The Birth The womb is darkness The blackest of night. But here in this ethereal void something springs forth from nothing. Visible from the unexisting, Dawning from the pitch. The seed of light implanted. The hope of life takes form. Something new is beginning. A creation never before seen, but all seeing eyes and stars alone observe it. Soon, the waters part and new life emerges, a baptism of earth and sky reborn, as up from the watery grave the clay arises. To windows still draped in heavy sleep, no sun yet shines. But the winds soon stir & the light gives life as face to face clay and Creator collide. An exchange of atmospheres is made - one breath to another, one soul spilled forth for man - until at last, the lifeless clay gasps it's infant breath, filling up the lungs with heavens winds. The new birth has come. All is light and breath and life as dawn to dawn circles on and