His Father a Blacksmith

All through the day,
And all through the night,
There shines a small ray,
A sliver of light.

Whilst all else is dark,
And whilst all else is unconscious,
It begins to make a mark,
Of a decision unanimous.

Blinding is the illumination,
And blinding is the void,
Some speak of world creation,
Others say the current destroyed.

It matters not when,
And it matters not where,
But if existence does end,
At least together we are there.