Life started in the Primordial Stream. In the beginning there was only slime.It oozed green from the bowels of the earth, bubbling forth, celestial song heralding the moment***In comedy, as in life, timing is everything.It took an eternity for conditions to be right, ripening in exquisite anticipation***Covered in ice, ravaged by wind,the germ of creation awaits its turn in the evolutionary cycle, relentlessly to multiply***At first, some tentative steps.A few primitive plants, glowingly uncomplicated, mere forebears
of the glory in store***Primordial life-forms in first blush,Like brushstrokes of an impressionist master capturing a garden
of as-yet-undiscovered delights***An undefined amalgam, a bouquet.A priceless gift from Gaia, the most-generous, the all-giving, all-forgiving Mother of us all***It comes from the sky, as the heavens darken.
It points the way to cataclysmic change a cascade of riches of everlasting strife***This is a time before death.
That will come later. Now life begins. It is creation.And for the moment, indestructible.