Before we knew their names,
we felt them.
The warmth of the sun.
The pull of the moon.
The ground beneath our feet.
We looked at them
and imagined they were alive.
We gave them faces,
stories,
gods and goddesses.
Perhaps this was how the first stories began —
not from knowledge,
but from love, wonder,
and the desire to belong
to something larger than ourselves.
We looked at the world,
and the world became a story.
odious
