Tinted in a Big Bang
by Tricia De Jesus-Gutierrez
The inception of anything starts
as a blank canvas that we will rarely recall.
We are always in attendance, but being
surprised by the newness of it all,
we are perhaps only slowly becoming present.
We take first, tentative steps,
it is midway through
this freshly carved existence that we
begin to mark upon the pristine surface,
paint what we see, write down our impressions
to be able to pull up this same memory later,
in almost exact form, and then as we walk
past ourselves — this initial self — we share
in the presence of others where we mingle
that point of our line with theirs,
a midway meeting point.
I see the beginning of things as blue,
uninhabited, never merely white, no,
nothing that devoid of color
- it is invariably the calm, the limitless expanse,
the promise found in a periwinkle sky.
It has hints of the future teasing already,
knowing it will see sunsets, the rare ones,
perfect explosions of bleeding, fast
moving color, that mingle their tawny,
livid fire with a tempered
undertone of lavender repose.
I do not think too intensely upon starting over,
because isn’t this what genesis is, not always
the alpha in the progression of time, but the dawn
of its own self-contained era, the omega
of something else? That thought is exhilarating
and it is frightening and I do not believe
that those two feelings need be cleaved neatly
down the middle and made to be felt
separate in entity. Comfort in what is known
maintains us in a holding pattern, it keeps us
replaying and reliving a cycle we never stop
to question is still good.
to our status quo?
I have come to a place
where I now welcome beginnings
as emergence into infinite
new storylines, where I play infinite
new characters and I inhabit each new
skin as if it were home. I imagine the cosmos
birthed themselves and their offspring
in a brilliant, violent display. I imagine
it was terrifying and existence arose in rapt
observance, in complete awe. Instinctively,
a supreme confidence that balance and harmony
would be spat out alongside the chaos.
This is the order, sacred and ancient. I trust
in its wisdom to fashion the same aftermath
as I, too, commence to erupt
into every incarnation in similar glory.