THE CRY

An expanse of open blue rippled as with waves, covering worlds unknown, unseen, yet unformed at His command. Complete in Himself, in His joy and His reign, the First One from whom light comes soared over it all. Content within Himself, He existed on His own and for His own. This is how it had always been, since before there was a before, for time and its captives cannot understand what lay beyond its limited dimensions.

What was He, you ask? He is the One, the First One, of untouchable excellence and a mystery too wonderful for us to grasp. We all have a beginning, but he did not. He is a being, if being He be, from which all else has come, and in whom all things find their design and purpose, thus without mention, completion. If I were to go on, my descriptions would fade into a loop, as I am no more than a man. He is too great to be called great in our tongue.

If light comes from him, then from where came darkness? Ah … to that, and so many more things I will speak, for we will at last arrive there, but first we must start with The Cry.

In a place that was not a time, He desired to share what He was, and what He could give with something of His own design. So He soared higher, or further still, to begin a beginning as only He could. With a Cry that had never been heard and will never be heard again, the First One called a new order to the expanse of blue. There, beneath Him, the expanse willingly obeyed His Cry and became ordered in forms of land and water. Illumined by His great light, a world came to be, simply by His will, out of nothing but the great blue expanse.

Enjoying what he had done, the First One carried His Cry forward for more, and from the land sprang plants of every kind, mountains, and by nature valleys, full of life. Shades of every rich and bright color burst forth, expanding their reach over the expanse of earth, from water’s edge to water’s edge. Scents of sweet and bitter, rich color that could now be felt filled the space between the land and the sky. But in the midst of all this reflection of His beauty and life, this new world was completely quiet apart from the Cry. The First One longed to be heard, and for his design to respond to Him in his great beauty.

Thus the Cry called forth yet another kind of design from among the hills, the plants and the water. Beasts great and small, on every surface, with expressions of every kind moved, called, and sang back to the First One with a song of thanks and adoration. With ebb and flow they moved together, His expression of creativity, for Him, and because of Him.

Pleased with his work, the One who uttered The Cry descended toward His design. And as He did, the highest mountain reached yet higher, into what remained of the great blue expanse, to provide a place for Him to stand. His two feet struck the rock, and there he took a form that was fitting for Him to show His design. A King He became to show his great might, with an Eagle above him to explain his powerful flight. One and the same, the King and the Eagle, welcomed the world into their presence.

But there was one last design that the First One desired. He saw fit to make a creature to share his greatness yet more closely than the horse or the bear. A reflection of his glory that would last longer than the waters aptly produced.
 
Then bending low to the crown of the mountain,
The Only One formed from its rock a fountain
From its flow came an image, two forms, and then three
Like Him, but still His, with a mind that was free
It shared His great might, in a measure it could hold
His power of flight, but with a command less bold
Complete in three parts, like an unbroken ring
His design stood before Him, first servant of the King
 
With this, His crowning work, the First One finished The Cry. And the beginning began. From that time forth, all time has extended, and from that fountain many more servants have risen to join the King in his work of design. Over all He has remained, none higher or more royal, all subject in thanks to His desire to create.

This is the account of the Beginning.

(Gershan, 4th son of Homsoloc)

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