The first moments

We saw flowing before us the increasing water. It effaced at one blow the mountain, chasing itself from the maternal flanks. It wasn’t a torrent offering itself up to its fate but an ineffable beast of which we became the speech and substance. It held us in love on the omnipotent bow of its imagination. What intervention could have constrained us? The daily smallness had fled, the blood cast away was gone to its warmth. Adopted by the open, sanded down to invisibility, we were a victory that would have no end.

René Char