Forgotten

It rent everything asunder, and the waves of the endless sea beat against that which was in ruin and after a time of what seemed like many years it washed it all away, until like in the beginning there was nothing, and in the nothingness there was stillness and the stillness brought with it peace, and so I sat in the peace and in the stillness and lost all concept of time, because after all there is an eternity of time, and beginning and end know not one of the other, and so the measure of time is meaningless. I sat in the peace of that meaninglessness, listening in silence to the stillness broken only by the slow cadence of the waves beating and receding back into the endless fathomless sea. If a tear fell into that sea, none would know save the maker of that sea, and none would care except again He who had created me, but He is slow moving, He who knows the depths of eternity, and if he who shed the tear should doze by that sea for a time, what is that to Him? And what is that to me? Odd it seems, for now I have forgotten.