Unseen Worlds-Chapter One-Origin

Chapter One-Origin



Singular and unremembered:
a rocking Silence swarms, loosely caught in the void above a floating transparent Earth, fetal and fluid, inverted in the curve of a great hanging womb in the nothing. It is the Beginning. There is no sound here, for sound does not yet exist- and in the stillness a viscous, shapeless black sits curled up on itself in the vacuum of which you and I would now call space. If it had eyes to see below it's fragile existence, it would have looked on in wonder-because for all the emptiness and soundless energy that occupied it's own realm-the one below it told of quite a different tale. Underneath the darkness that ruled the upper-there was a great swirling mass of light and weight and a unknown-yet definite form. If it looked closer down the rabbit hole of those mists, it may have just been able to make out the distant buzz of noise emerging for the first time-vibrating and assaulting in its newness. Farther still and tiny forms could have been discerned -shapes not like the black: but rounds of solid, moving white and a raging cobalt blanket rushing across that mass, that was the Earth in it's birth, and the mighty Seas taking their place deep inside it's vast structure.
                    But the Black could not see any of this, it only dilated in short slow shivers from time to time as the cells of it's dark matter were fusing together-blinked unknowingly from behind the shadows of thick eyelids-cloaked in mystery -heavy with the blankness of it's own pale conception. And so it continued this way-in a catatonic slumber as the planets around came into existence-each one brilliant and flaming in a hollow night. Bright sparks of supernovas scored the fleshy landscapes of our free falling world-stars broke off and became the lanterns of the darkness, the titanic fireball sun fell as a white hot thought from the creators ears-and rushes of contrast came to wet the horizons below, soothing the acrid and barren ground.
                  The first breaths of life began to hum in the chosen destinies of Him, and the smoky veils of afterbirth began to clear-a minute ebbed on by and the world knew it as Time-it grew longer on a piece of golden thread, and soon minutes gave way to hours-measurement and numbers hid in the yellow of unfurling days, and finally the stretch of aeons exhaled on the face of the universe.             
    Down under: across the skies of the Earth's atmosphere, the plains are melting as the last light of the day draws to a close, aging the blues of it's stretched afternoon to scarlet sepia, like memories casting shadowy beams low upon the land. Above the stars are slowly waking and brightening in the haze and dusk, they clot like jewels in the mold of the onyx nightfall. The first lunar darkening extends it's silvery presence on the Earth.

  It was in this manner that the world as we know it today was fashioned, and the story of human evolution spanning the ages has flown resolutely across our history books. But this is not a story about our world or how we came to be over the years- there are no fierce and looming dinosaurs in this tale, because this is not a story about us-human beings and our great dirty battleground planet-this, is a collection of accounts of a folk so unlike ourselves-a world widely differing in every way to that we which we have known, where the same rules that govern our own existence do not apply or even enter into the same field of consciousness; The lost chronicles of other worlds.