Tranquil is the dark. Tranquil and cold. The seas are silent.
A deep chill prevails, it stretches out to nip the edges of our ambition. Long and sharp sweeps the cold across the land.
Somewhere stirs movement, the seas relent to slight warmth, cracking, slipping to liquid. A tension rises, the waters churn and foam. Bubble and burst.
Deep forces surge upward, waves froth, roll and collapse. Water flows, rolls and turns on the land. Carving, breaking and shaping.
The skies awake, rumbling to life. A crack and slap of thunder and gentle drip of rain to replenish the wavering seas. Clouds cover our eyes, we try to perceive.
Through the dullness, shapes appear amidst the seas. Islands have formed. Each alike but seperate. Consciousness creeps across the land abandoned by the seas.
Minds now, searching, reaching, thinking. Inginuety searching for knowledge explores and creates. Conquers the land, conquers the seas.
Minds clashing, conflicting. Ideas, ideals, ideologies and credos. They build and destroy everything and break themselves apart. Crisis. Overreaching with no thought of consequence.
The seas rise, clash, engulf. Battle the minds.
Then teach, humble and direct. The lore of all that is known.
Peace billows across the lands. The seas are calm. Serenity prevails.
Tranquil is the light. Tranquil and bright.
On the seas of the moon.