In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.
And sycamore trees stretched their limbs to the sky like white maiden arms stretching in late morning light, because they required energy to grow. Fields of prairies grass rippled like the flanks of a running horse because convection stirred the air. Maple leaves rioted into crimson and molten gold because their trees could not afford their luxury in winter’s chill. Rays turned on undulating wings so graceful they seemed like the very spirit of sea and air and flight given physical substance, because they sensed food might be nearby.
And in field and grove, in every deep sea basin and mountain plateau, in every crack in every cliffside Beauty emerged without plan or direction, all unaware like a girl on the cusp of womanhood who knows not that she is radiant.
And God saw that Beauty was alone and unknown. And God created Consciousness, that Beauty might have a witness and a bard and a lover; that He might recognize and adore Her; that He might name Her and know Her and sing to all the ages of her. And Consciousness took root in man. And for the first time Creation looked upon itself and knew that something greater had come forth from the logic of cause and effect, survival and reproduction. And behold, it was good.