Acts of Creation

At first,
There was nothing.
And then came,
Light.
Not unlike
A blank page
Bruised by ink.
We all build worlds
But we all don't live them.
We are too
Authored into being
By the big Author
In the sky.
The one, the only
The Supreme.
This is a whirling dervish
Of existence
And doubts trail
Lives, worlds, universes.
I recreate images
Of the Author.
The one, the only.
I create,
Therefore, I am.
So I am become
An author
With a small 'a'.
Of a small universe
Worshiped, Loved, Adored.
Saved?
Authors need saving too.
Careful preservation
Between the wrinkles
Of a crumbling multiverse
The Author,
Imagined us out of comets
And starshine
So I am exploding
At the pull
Of a blackhole.
I am authoring
Safety valves
To catch my pieces.
Wait a while
To witness the final act.
In the end
(The Beginning?)

It comes down to
Creation
Salvation
Shanti.