Endless procreation, of mountain ranges, over hills and oceans.
A baby is born into deeper emotions, where oceans and seas, meet peaks,
of settling ice ages.
The word is created from light and spirit.
Earths atmosphere is like a cataclysm of music.
But to the silence of Martians this chaos is a perfect note.
Myriads upon myriads of cosmic praises are sung by angels.
From nothing came thought, fire letters and primordial spawns from
spawn itself.
Creation begins with the cosmic lignam having divine coitus with the
sweetness of Heavens,
Following the big bang
Spawn sang everlasting praises
Josephe Buchanan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/everlasting-elohim/
