The First Wizard

The First Wizard
By: Jack Woolverton

A solitary wizard walks through night
Darkness shrouds him, but hinders not his sight.
He stops and listens, his gaze piercing deep…
A sound drifts by, as if waking from sleep.
His hand stretches out, a blue sphere appears;
Pale mist encircles it, blown by a breeze.

Intense light blooms, extinguishing the dark,
Revealing vast plains, though barren and stark.
His other hand raises, the land turns green;
Creatures step forth, that nobody has seen.
More fly out from where the land has been seared…
Evil faces him, hoping he will freeze.

War wages between them, fire and ice,
Earth and air also, virtue against vice.
The powers of virtue win, in the end,
But the evil remains, for hearts to rend.
The wizard remains alone, standing still,
Then speaks a word, and a new creature forms.

Made from the dust of the ground, he steps forth,
Walking to the wizard, then facing north.
From this creature, yet another comes out,
The same in spirit, but different without.
These were created with a special will,
And they bask in the land that the light warms.

The wizard saw this and said, “It is good.”