"Let there be light!"
 Should have been 
 let there be love.
 Before the grand smashing of quasars and quarks,
 before the nebulous blast of itinerant particles
 and vagabond molecules filled primordial void.
 Before life's infernos and castaway stars
 reached Alpha sans Omega,
 well before the first mind feigned realization

 it should have been ...
 How I teach your hands to key on a piano's ivory face,
 and your innocent musing of notes between crests
 a little chaste, a little cello,
 an octave's voice off cleft invites;
 let there be love.

 Before Odysseus sailed through history's track,
 before Buddha's grand asceticism beneath the Bo tree,
 before the Caesars and Gandhis and
 Christ ! How delicate your fingers find note
 on a scale whose extortion wills "A" count to "C",

 trace it, follow it, focus one more time
 before the night sky twilight breaks dawn
 and your head finds pillow and sleep.
 Before your delicate feet carve niche under cover
 and this sotto voce against your cheek
 tells the dawn of her majesty
 yet can only whisper in the silence
 let there be love.