In the beginning was the three-pointed star，

　　One smile of light across the empty face，

　　One bough of bone across the rooting air，

　　The substance forked that marrowed the first sun，

　　And， burning ciphers on the round of space，

　　Heaven and hell mixed as they spun.

　　In the beginning was the pale signature，

　　Three-syllabled and starry as the smile，

　　And after came the imprints on the water，

　　Stamp of the minted face upon the moon；

　　The blood that touched the crosstree and the grail

　　Touched the first cloud and left a sign.

　　In the beginning was the mounting fire

　　That set alight the weathers from a spark，

　　A three-eyed， red-eyed spark， blunt as a flower，

　　Life rose and spouted from the rolling seas，

　　Burst in the roots， pumped from the earth and rock

　　The secret oils that drive the grass.

　　In the beginning was the word， the word

　　That from the solid bases of the light

　　Abstracted all the letters of the void；

　　And from the cloudy bases of the breath

　　The word flowed up， translating to the heart

　　First characters of birth and death.

　　In the beginning was the secret brain.

　　The brain was celled and soldered in the thought

　　Before the pitch was forking to a sun；

　　Before the veins were shaking in their sieve，

　　Blood shot and scattered to the winds of light

　　The ribbed original of love.

Dylan Thomas