|
|
I'm a terrestrial goat, chi-dren |
And God said, "Let there be lights in the dome of the sky to separate the day from the night," which he kind of already did on day one, but now he was geeking around with his dome. God said, "And let the lights be for signs and for seasons and for days and for years." So God was hanging a giant calendar on the dome. Now you would know if you should be awake or asleep, if you were a Capricorn or a Libra, if it was the year of the Rat or the year of the Dog, if you felt hot or cold, and if you were young or old.
God made two great lights, the greater light to rule the day and the lesser light to rule the night. The greater light was strong and dependable. It arrived every morning, crossed the entire dome, and left at evening.
The lesser light was a holy mess. It wandered unpredictably around the dome. Some nights it was only a half of a light. Some nights it was barely a sliver. Sometimes the lesser light showed up during the day. Sometimes it didn't even show up at all.
|
| Relax, man |
God wasn't exactly pleased with the lesser light. So he sprinkled tiny lights called stars all over the dome to make up for it with at least some kind of night light. The stars were much, much smaller than the lesser light, but they were better behaved. The stars moved all over the dome, but at least enough of them would show up. And the stars moved in unison as though they were all holding hands.
All of them, that is, except for five curious stars. These five, if they bothered to show up, wandered across the dome each in its own direction. They were the least behaved of the stars, but five out of countless isn't bad.
So God set all the lights in the dome of the sky to give light upon the earth and to rule over day and night. And to separate the light from the darkness again, like back in day one.
And God saw that it was good enough.
And there was evening and there was morning, the fourth day.
