The peasants are restless. One can feel it in the air, and in the water, and in the earth. The dark reign of the most absurd creation myths ever to haunt the world of man draws to a close. The light of the new day has almost broken on the horizon, though it be only a glimmer as yet, and tainted with the twilight colors of believers so used to the darkness, that it still darkens their windows.
They will soon realize that they need to cast off completely the natural only chains that stopped them from allowing the true light to shine.
There are those that seek to stop the dawning, knowing that as the day starts to break, they will forever lose all power to even try. The gathering storm for this final showdown is already starting to rumble. The stakes couldn't be higher.
Of course the enemy of men's souls stands loudly to accuse every bit of darkness that he sees in the coming faint lit sky, saying, 'look o men, there is still darkness in the windows they tried to open for you. How could any think this true light?'
But it is not the blackness he really hates, but the breaking light. He clamors for all to run back to the pure darkness, where they can't see anything else. 'Look, when the glimmer of light shone, did not we see mistakes, and things we know are not good light'? He says.
And I agree, the attempts of these creation believers have mistakes, and their science is flawed. But the windows that are the museums also have the light, and that is the difference. They can lead to a glorious new and sunny bright pure day as well, however humble, and dim the start seems to be.
In other words, if any missed the jist of my attempted poetic take on things here, it is better than the lie of a common ancestor creation with no God.
Cheers.
™ Version 4.2