In the far North, where time begins, a flower blooms in the sky. So beautiful is she that God gifted her creation. In return, she offered him a drink of her nectar. As he drank, she began to weep in cessation of her corolla. By the time her first petal had fallen to the ground, he was asleep. This is his dream.
What have I done? Lost in desire, I’m blind in darkness, unaware of the Flower’s true essence.
As I walk deeper into absence, dawn glows beyond the horizon. Flower, is that you? My gaze rises to the heavens, where a trail of petals, like glowing stars, leads the way. As they fall from the sky, I’m guided by their path. I open my hand, and a petal floats onto my palm. Darker than night, softer than air, and a scent so pervasive I taste her again. There is a whisper. What is she saying? Then the petal, like a memory, withers to dust, and I feel sadness.
A tear falls into my empty hand, and I remember her cry. Like a crystalline dewdrop reflecting the heavens, I follow her abscission through endless reflections, each mirroring the next and all before. Darkness returns, and I surrender to eternity.
I crumble to dust and am carried away. Absorbed by the cosmos, I inhabit every star and the void between. On earth, I rise with mountains, settle into seas, and drift ashore.
Where time ends, God awakes. And there she is.
Flower, I’m you.
World of Illusions 