and then there was

In the gray mist of the first morning
the dim light clung close
to their hunched praying mantis figures
slick like the floor of a cave
lean black eyes,
white whiskers sweeping,
frail pale long fingers
they moved as one to the rhythm of their drumbeats,
pulsing through in ripples
out into the surrounding empty space
the shifting light
couldn't linger for long on their feverish faces,
but the spotlight broadened
with every crescendo
every breath
every strike
the world brightened
the ferns transpired
the creepers stretched their vines
slow at first
then gaining ground
life was drawn into the world.

The sweat of its birth still clings to the inhabitants of this universe.
In our rages,
in the burning of our minds
in our passions beyond the keep of culture
we still remember the warm breath of the early world.