Anywhere.

The Birth of Everything

I was there when the universe was born.

A firework that bled into the empty canvas,

Colours that were new and bold and beautiful,

Swirling and mixing on a field of endless black.

I watched the pulsing clouds of speckled fire,

Swim in the inky darkness, violently serene.

The constellations, like a splatter of paint or a spilled drink,

Blinding and varied in that growing mass of light,

Itching to fill an unending space.

Planets and galaxies and burning stars scattered across the infinite sky,

Turning and shining and glowing with unending enthusiasm,

Ever growing and changing.

Orchestrated and painted at the same time,

A picture and a symphony all at once,

I beheld, in awe, the universe.