The Eternal Parent, wrapped in invisible robes slumbered. Time was not, for it lay asleep in the infinite bosom of duration. Space was not, for there was no place or point. Darkness alone filled the Boundless All. And the Darkness was One.

The Seven Sublime Forms and the Five Truths were not yet, and the universe, the child of Necessity, had not yet been breathed out. Alone, the One Form of Being stretched boundless, infinite, causeless, in dreamless sleep. And life pulsated unconscious, throughout that all-presence. The Great Wheel was not yet. The Dark Formers and the Luminous Forms, were not yet. The Forms that come from No-form rested in the bliss of eternal non-being. And the Darkness was One.

A vibration thrills through Darkness, expanding within and without, touching the whole Universe which was now an embryo in Darkness. Then, the Ray flashed out into a web of 7 lights, and the 5 truths molded the whole into LIFE. Yet still, the Darkness was One.

 

And the Cosmos was born from the web, a woven fabric of many colors and tones. And the cloth was woven perfectly, no color dominated, yet none were the same; no tones were the same, yet all were harmonious; all blended in a variegated ever-changing cloth, whose capacity for infinite change was proof of the miracle of life. And all things living are part of this woven fabric of life. And all they have to do to delight in this gift of life, is BE. Yet through the changing of times and places, through the births and deaths of stars that form the Web of Life, the Wheel Spins relentlessly in the Grand Illusion. Yet still, the Darkness IS One.

        

And is man part of this woven fabric of life? Yes! All man has to do to delight in this gift of life, is BE. But man has not been content with the harmony in the fabric. And so man tried to change the fabric of the cloth and found that this was easy. Man wanted to have the blues dominate over the reds, to get rid of the greens and yellows; he wanted there to be the same tones, not different tones. And though most of the tones are gone, man finds that what remains is a discordant, disharmonious noise that causes him much unrest. Yet will man continue to try to "fix" this until finally, there is nothing left but a torn up, shredded, scrap of cloth: the remains of the fabric that was man? Perhaps. Yet still, the Darkness is One, was One, ever will be One.