The Dream

A white line -- delicate,
Yet so intricately woven,
Suddenly pierced
The black nothingness:
A singularity of light;
Then another -- square unto it,
Sprang into perspective;
Then a third,
Perpendicular to all,
Shined into existence.

Then, with
The lightest touch
Of His Word,
The space created
Leaped into life,
With delicate, wondrous
Patterns of light:
Lines, circles, and curls;
Filled with color,
All intertwined;
Like the crescendo
Of a visual symphony.

The cup of my dream
Then ran over,
Like a river that
Overflows her banks:
For I dreamed
An infinity of dreams
In an instant;
And this infinity;
Multiplied by Infinity,
Created all possibilities,
In one magnificent Now.

It was a perfect realm,
Whose ever changing patterns,
Resonated in the eternal now:
A blend of sounds, textures,
Colors, and dimensions;
Seeding new patterns
Into countless infinities;
All dancing to the absolute,
Perfect control of
God's eternal awareness.

**there is, my friends, one more verse
always in my dream; but at the conclusion of this scene
I always awake with a consciousness and a
dread of destruction and oblivion, and can see no further. **

Into this perfect realm,
He created reflections
Of His awareness,
And gave them purpose:
He brought into the dream;
Beings of beauty,
And intellect, with
A sense of self.
Set, at their creation,
To share the dream;
He sent their ken
Into His infinities,
To peer into possibility;
And to manifest reality.

** Here the dream ends; always **