God said, “Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate day from night; let them serve as signs for seasons and for days and years, and let them be lights in the vault of the sky to give light upon the earth.”

I like to imagine what might lie behind an idea.
Was it the intuition of a single moment?
Or has the mind embroidered it again and again?
Or perhaps a tangle of disconnected thoughts that, when brought together, form something beautiful?

Like many silvery filaments chasing one another, splitting, winding from one side to the other—perhaps reordered by a slender white hand, a curious kind of divine justice. Then displayed, like a precious tapestry in an oriental palace, wrapped in incense and the intense aroma of spices.

Can you already make out a silvery nuance lifting itself from the background? Grains coming together to form tiny craters?

I see them, and I hope to understand what idea they conceal.

Greta Starinieri