Out of that cryogenic sleep The first sentient thought was one of hunger Gnawing and unnerving in its depth An untraceable urge The thick...

She was the first thought. Waking. Walking in the void. Image or idol or maybe a whisper. Voices. A melody across the deep. And so he dreamt the world. Orbit. He set the stars to spinning. Galaxies flashed like neurons. Beauty. Nova blossoms blooming. And so the emptiness was filled up. Earth. The rocks, the rivers, rain. Oceans against the shoreline. Thunder. Echoes of a sudden flame. Promethean the spark was made. Life. A breath beneath the waters. Splinters of light