Sacred Alphabet

In the beginning was not the word, not yet

There was no sacred alphabet

No subject, object, verb or tense

Sound had not been enslaved to sense

The void was neither dark nor deep

It did not, like some giant, sleep

In cosmic unawareness, coiled

Undreaming of a world unspoiled

No melody did gently wake

This giant, nor did his soul take

The shape of song heard in his dreams

So making real what merely seems

Instead, an undivided howl

A random, preternatural vowel

No beauty, truth or goodness here

No sin, no shame, no guilt nor fear

There was no sacred alphabet

In the beginning was not the word, not yet