I rode the train into Portland that went slowly down into a tunnel. The builders had lightened the gloom enough that one could pick out the carvings in the red stone walls. Here was cut an evolutionary timeline, here a mammoth, and here a Neanderthal skull. Here also a Lamanite creation myth, not without poetry (“the earth was once as one person, big in the womb”). We then picked up speed again. The bright and dazzling light at the tunnel mouth grew in size rapidly. I saw the walls blank now, where different builders would have carved LET THERE BE LIGHT.
In my mind I would have added, that light groweth brighter and brighter until the perfect day.