In the beginning, there was nothing. No light. No sound. No time. Only a vast, endless void, and within it, the presence of the Eternal One—formless, mighty, and silent.
Then He moved.
From the silence came a voice. It wasn't a whisper or a shout, but a command that shattered the stillness of nothingness. "Let there be light."
And there was light.
It blazed into existence, fierce and pure, pushing back the darkness that had lingered since forever. The Eternal One looked upon it and saw that it was good. He called the light day, and the darkness He called night. That was the first day.
On the second day, He spoke again. This time, the waters listened. They gathered and separated as the Eternal One stretched a great dome across them, dividing the waters above from the waters below. He called the dome sky, a vast canvas between the heavens and the deep.
Then came the third day. The voice of the Creator stirred the waters once more, and land rose from the depths, rough and bare. He called the dry land Earth and the gathered waters He named Seas. But He wasn't done. From the earth, He called forth life—grasses, trees, vines, and flowers. Plants burst from the soil, each bearing seeds of its kind. The land turned green and vibrant, and the Creator saw that it was good.
On the fourth day, the Eternal One placed lights in the sky—not just one, but two great guardians. The sun, bright and bold, ruled the day, while the moon, soft and silver, watched over the night. He scattered stars across the heavens like jewels, marking seasons, years, and sacred times.
Then the fifth day arrived, and with it, the waters stirred again. From the deep came creatures great and small—whales with singing voices, fish that glittered like living gems, and serpents that wove through the ocean currents. In the sky, wings spread wide. Birds of every color and size soared through the air, filling the heavens with their cries and songs. The Creator blessed them, telling them to multiply and fill the seas and skies.
On the sixth day, the land came alive. Creatures of all kinds appeared—beasts that roared, animals that crawled, ran, and leapt across the earth. The world was no longer quiet; it pulsed with life. Yet something was missing.
Then the Eternal One knelt beside the dust of the earth and shaped it with care. From the soil, He formed a new being—one unlike any other. He breathed into its nostrils, and it awoke. Then He made another, a companion, formed from life itself. They were man and woman, made in His image, bearing His spark.
He gave them the earth to tend, the animals to name, the fruit of the trees to eat. "Be fruitful," He said. "Fill the earth and care for it." And He looked at them—not just at their form, but at their hearts—and saw that they were good.
At last, the work was complete. The light, the land, the stars, the creatures, and humanity—all woven into the fabric of the world by His voice alone. And when He looked at it all, He smiled.
It was very good.
And so, the sixth day came to a close, and the story of the world had begun.