It Happened

There is more to the story.

For instance, I remember when I was a young boy. Younger than nine years old, certainly. Perhaps younger than five years old. What does it matter?

I remember the oppressive humidity early in the morning, and the sounds of insects as the light from the  sun painted the eastern horizon with distinct dayness. I do not remember why I was there, with my father, in the early morning. I remember building the church. I remember pouring concrete.

It was the first time the Universe wrestled me, demanding my attention.

A new day is easy for Me, It said. I have laid waste to stillness
For generation upon generation

Upon generation.