Prelude
Prelude
Once upon a time,
In a a place neither here nor there,
But instead both here and there,
Lived Dreamtime.
‘How can such a place live, and not simply just be?’
My child, Dreamtime is not only a place.
Dreamtime is a plane of existence.
‘Is it a higher one?’
No, my child.
There is no higher and lower.
Trenches are the mountains of water, and holes are pillars of absence.
Everything is high, and low, too.
‘But that cannot be!’
My child, everything can be in Dreamtime.
Like what?
Like color.
Color?
Oh, yes.
Everything is made of color.
So, so much color.
’Is it beautiful?”
My child, it is infinitely beautiful.
