The power of story.

In pursuit of an idea, I decided to google Philippine
folklore. We have so much and know so little.

In the beginning, you could touch the
sky. There was a man, and a woman, and they lived together. She was lazy and
vain, and wore much jewelry. She didn’t want to lift a finger. The man
complained, naturally, and asked that she at least pound rice, because whatever
would they eat? She decided to pound enough rice for the day, and took out a
giant mortar, and a giant pestle. Each time she heaved the pestle up, it would
hit the sky, and the sky would lift. She hardly noticed. She was tired from
pounding. She took off her silver comb, her string of pearls and her gold ring,
and hung them from the sky, as we would hang clothes off a hook. She kept
pounding. It was getting dark and her man had yet to return. With her final
heave, the sky shot up, never to be touched by man or woman again. She looked
up. Her comb had become the moon, and her string of pearls scattered into stars.
Her gold ring could not be found.