Writin' again
In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the Earth, right? You've been indoctrinated with that since you were a small child, I'd be willing to wager. Then came oceans and land and stars and sky and animals and finally Man himself. And it was good. Well, mostly.
Before the beginning, there was only Him. I cannot presume to know why he made us, or how, or any of the particulars. I only know that one day (well, that was back in the day before there was such thing as day, but I'll try to put it in a time frame the mortal mind can grasp) He spoke us into existence, and there we were. And it was glorious, because He loved us so much, and we were filled with nothing but love for Him. But something changed. I can't quite put my finger on it (in our celestial bodies, we don't really have fingers. We don't really have bodies, for that matter) but the atmosphere changed. He started being withdrawn, quiet, less... I can't explain it in words. I can't even explain it in concepts that the human mind could wrap itself around. Mescaline would be the closest you could come to understanding it, but that's another story for another time.
Oh, where are my manners! Please, allow me to introduce myself; I'm a man of wealth and taste. Man has known me by many names throughout the years, but before Man and Language came along, I was the Morning Star. You can call me whatever you'd like, though.
So at the very dawn of time, before the whole "Let there be light!" speech, He became a brooding mess. We detected the change immediately, but none of the Host could name it. Then, all of a sudden, *poof* and instead of just being we were suddenly aware that we were somewhere. Imagine being in a solid white room with no gravity for your entire life and then noticing that there was a window, with an entire world outside. It was unsettling, and we had mixed reactions. Many cheered, because of course anything He did was amazing and praiseworthy, but some of us were uneasy about the new developments. He didn't stop there, though. We were suddenly aware of the concept of darkness. None of us had witnessed it firsthand (and some of them still haven't), but we knew that we were bathed in His light, and that there was something else, something that wasn't light and probably wasn't good. Again, most flitted about, singing His praises at this new and novel creation, while some of only watched nervously.
I should add this, too: Every culture of Man on Earth knows that it happened, and, roughly, how it happened, but to be there and witness it firsthand is simply indescribable. So of course, every culture has found a way to put it into mortal words for mortal ears. Some say land came from a lump of clay on a turtle's back, others say it was pulled forth from the waters my some Divine hand, while those science-y types say it was condensing dust over millions of years. Well, they're all equally wrong, and all equally right. Remember, this was before anyone, even the He Himself, really had a concept of time, or turtles, or a difference in liquids and solids. One second there's Where We Are and The Somewhere Else, and the next second there's Where We Are and The Somewhere Else which happened to have mountains and oceans and lakes and rivers and mesas and plains. For all anyone knows, it might have taken millions of years. We just didn't have anything to measure time by back then.
While all this was going on, we started dividing into factions of sorts. Those of us who weren't entirely sure we were in favor of what He was doing were pointed out and instantly made suspect by those who were fascinated and enthralled by His new creation. They couldn't fathom how we could possibly be anything less than thrilled about these new developments. We tried to relate to them, in the only terms we could (remember, the only language we knew was that of His love; contrasts of any sort were a very new development) the sort of existential crisis we were experiencing. Not that any of us could imagine anything like an existential crisis; it would be hundreds of millions of years (He hadn't even invented the day yet!) before Nietzsche would coin the term existentialism. Meanwhile, He was playing with his new toy, making things that would grow and drop little things that would make more of them grow; you would call them plants. I'll admit, that part was fascinating. Those well-versed in chemistry and biology might claim to know how they work and where they came from, and how they were synthesized from inert materials and how they evolved, but to be there, to see it being done, to watch the Master work, you can't understand.
In the Christian version of it, He made the sun and the stars and separated the night from the day and that was that, but there was so much more to it.
That's the first 30 minutes or so of writing. Please, critique it, tell me what's good and what's not (except about cohesion... I'm not quite at the cohesion stage yet) and I'll... well... promise you a spot in the 'special thanks' section if I ever get published?