Abram, a man long-lived and well-established within the futilities of life,
Even upon the terra not long previously submerged,
Where mankind, though wayward already, hadn't the opportunity to gash and scar the landscape,
Looked upon this wondrous and purified earth with dulled eyes.
No deep joy could he sense.
No stories rang in his ears about a Garden once thriving.
But on an appointed day a voice stopped him, cold.
A voice of all voices. Etherial, deep, ageless, unbound, and without uncertainly.
Get up and go. Take what is yours and I will show you
A far-off country.
In an instant the dullish haze burned from his eyes, replaced by a glimmer.
In the lifeless dungeons of Abram's being, within his deepest dark,
Stirred an ember never before lit. An alien wind whispered and swirled in the gloom
And softly began to sing to that hot coal. It began to dance.
Not unlike a great wyrm in an ancient tale,
Long dormant but destined to awaken in a mood unchainable,
Something was now happening. Something that would not be stopped.
There was a newness.
Abram sensed this unexplored cellar within
Was brimming with tinder - awaiting a single, wayward spark.
Indeed he willed the reckless flame.
His spirit jolted and his soul became
An unquenchable fire.
Abraham walked. With all he loved in tow he set out on
An unexpected journey.
The voice, you see, had awakened something within.
Something that in time his kin
Would describe as "eternity on the hearts of men".
