The Watch and the Watchmaker

Space.

A strange word,
     I made it myself.
         It seemed apt.

This…
       space.

It was dark, empty.
It stretched on forever.
An expanse of just this.

All there was for me,
was this pen, these four walls,
and my own inspiration.

Usually, I would amuse myself
with more trivial things.
If only I could describe them.

But a day upon where no other
thought came to mind, I began
something far greater than before

and it was marvellous, exalted,
by myself alone. Until another came.
Until he continued my legacy.

Look upon my tale and wonder:
if he and I were one and the same,
what is he? What am I?




I drew an oval upon the floor.
I drew upon it strange shapes,
with amusing loops and
strange configurations.
          I called it a planet.

I decided the oval was lonely.
So I drew more of them
of different sizes, shapes
and squiggles and splotches.
          I think they can be planets too.

The room was dark and cold.
I cast my pen to the roof,
filling it with a great circle
that engulfed the space.
          Sun? I like that term.

But still, there were components
vacant from the void; there were
gaps. So I filled it with speckles,
so it wouldn't feel so empty.
          Orbs? No. Stars. Stars.

And so I turned to the first
oval, in all its meekness, and
decided it needed my loving care.
So, I drew it separately, for my own.
          I think I'll name it Earth.

I changed from white to blue,
and in all the spaces where I had
not defined, I put pen to wall,
and I brought it from my will.
          The ocean, I think. Sea, for short.

But no! For all my endeavour,
it must have more. For all its blue
and white, it must have been lonely.
I drew a stick, a cross, then appendages.
          A friend. I'll call him a human.

I gave him a pen, we drew together,
I coloured the splotches of the Earth
green and gold and ochre and brown,
while he drew himself a box to hide in.
          Just like that. Land. A home.

I thought I'd let his imagination run
rampant, and all on his lonesome,
archaic triangles, spikes and blurs
filled the spaces in between.
          Buildings. Machines. Electricity.

I looked down at him, and thought
my own work was a trifle compared
to his marvels; maybe we could reason,
collaborate, inspire as one unit.
          I sent him a sign, a…book.

Alas, he ignored my offer; his pride
was too great to acknowledge what
pen had created him, and others like him,
for he too had drawn friends of calibre.
          Humans. A collective. A race.

They spread, with their pens and swords,
with so much creation it caused naught
but destruction. It had to stop. I flipped
the pen, and made one single mark.
          One had disappeared. I had created…nothing.

This nothing, it was frowned upon.
They looked outwards from their space,
into my eyes, forever gazing them all
and they asked me, why?
          I created death. Destruction. Envy.

They took my role, expanded their wall
into a mosaic to rival initial design.
And it didn't stop there, they scribbled
to the floor, to the sun, always creating.
          Knowledge, I heard one say. Endeavour.

For all this creation, all I do is watch.
I smote one for arrogance, and their reaction
was nothing but contempt. Their trust had gone,
ignoring me finitely, for infinity.
          Trust is the wrong word. Faith, I feel.




I ask you: I drew you. I moulded you.
From the ink of one pen, or another,
I drew what was to be you.

I'll leave you with this. I will depart.
I feel I will not be missed. When they
look for me, I will be long past.

I too showed your concept of pride,
I made a being that rivalled me,
equalled me. I paid in dissolution.

They will question, they will hypothesise,
how they came to be, and I will have no answers.
Merely, the epitaph from the genesis of all things:

Look upon my tale and wonder:
if he and I were one and the same,
what is he?
                   What am I?


And God said,
     Let us make man in our image, after our likeness:
     and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea,
     and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle,
     and over all the earth and over every creeping thing
     that creepeth upon the earth.
                                                    Genesis 1:26