First Came She

The first man was a woman

And She had within her all that is good

And all that is bad.

Swirling inside her, the entirety of potential.

The saintly and the satanic engaged, in turmoil

And She in her Immensity, increasingly engorged

Agonizingly trying to hold it all in

In a moment of weakness that was bound to occur,

She sought relief in a cosmic uncoupling 

Loudly, with an ear-splitting scream, She split in two.

The part of her birthed was He

He who looked upon her, in unequivocal want,

and knew that she was complete

whereas He was but a half

of all that made her She.

A desire to stay near, keep her close

Permeated through his being

And pulled by those forces that continuously attract

Seeking to integrate, keep things that drift apart intact,

The two of them came together, many million times

Creating more of themselves, fusion and fission,

In a timeless circle that never ends

But every subsequent man, woman or both,

Is only a fraction of He and She

A flare of the sun, a wave in the sea

All of us smaller, weaker, so much less

Than all that we could be.