With “light” comes its foil—”not light.” Together they set up shop in medias res—in the middle of the story of “water.” Here is raised another division of above and below, of before and after. Such a boundary engages each subsequent telling-forward and flashing-back that sets us above to judge and submerges us into unknowing action caught in the tides and eddies of context and instinct.

Evening by morning and morning by evening, sun and moon and ambiguous dawn and dusk, roll through this vaulted lacuna where, in the midst of nihilo, a space non-resistant to order might reach beyond a divisive boundary for inspired material to shape into a beginning of a branching and fruiting story continually at risk of being lost to a weakened resolve to encapsulate a sense of suspended disbelief so a meaning within one set of choices is the meaning for all such attempts to set limits on a many-fingered movement writing and erasing outside the limit of coherence.

The plurality of heavenly vaults suggests the expansion of space in all directions—with an “edge” beyond our apprehension. This restricts our appreciation of indeterminacy and encourages an over-valuing of constructs that set belief and intention over and above the waters of nature, politics, and religion where we swim during our day and night and in between.

Signifying the temporary nature of this division is the lack of the now traditional blessing of “it is good” upon this heroic work of separating heavens from earth. We are left with an ambiguity devolving into a morality of right and wrong, clean and unclean, now and never.

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