He fathered them all,
Their blushing mother nursed them,
Balanced them in the gentle sway of her delicate fabric.
As children they loved their Mother,
In awe of the Father that provided all.
From a shared cradle they emerged,
Brothers and sisters.
From above, their Father watched their wanderings.
Illuminating their world with light and life,
As He made His way across the sky.
In four directions His children spread,
Chasing horizons over great distances.
Like seeds on a wind.
The Children of the East, welcomed their Father each day.
The Children of the South, best knew their Father’s warmth.
The Children of the West, danced to their Father’s music.
The Children of the North, grew distant from their Father.
Discovering in the shadows of their Father’s absence,
The cold side of a lonely Mother.
Building walls they turned inward,
Growing pale in their solitude.
Nearsighted through honed dexterity,
Pride swelling with the power of creation.
Linguistic palaces ascended to heaven,
Their father and mother subjugated by name.
They charted the distant stars.
They mapped the earth’s contours.
They mastered inferior races.
They worshiped themselves.
Fair skin easily seared,
By a father made sun.
~r