In the beginning there was none and the none was One, and so too it was in the end. One begat Self, Soul and indeed the myriad of multiversal things and nothings, experiences waiting to be found.
Though a perfect ever blossoming crystal, woven like such fine silk over time and time again, One’s narrative body remained silent. Without a playful teller to interpret its many facets and to push its limits there were no stories sung, no paths plotted, no victors, no losers, no way for One to know Self and the full extent of Soul.
One then took a pinch of its own Soul and made Two, a mirror, mime, explorer, spelunker of Self and set it about a multidimensional playground, a finite infinity of raw unsubjected noumena.
Spreading his being until bountiful and beauteous Two covered One like an infinite unbound blanket. Pulsing with sound so pure that it resonated the crystalline chamber of One’s body, leaving warm what once was cold, as flesh to bone. Resonating across infinity around and back again, the mirror and its chamber.
A measure of notes later, alone with her reflection, Two, and the solemn note he sung, One realized the multitude of paths and possibilities remained silent still.
Two was simply not enough.
So One took Soul and shattered it into many pieces then set about the business of making conscious vessels for all.
To speak the great I-am, I eye to see, mine soul ear to listen, reflective mind to question and comment, empathetic hand to hold and true love to guide it.
One and Two then together mixed a primordial brew of all forces. Awakening a new light from the pitch black cauldron of dank emptiness.
From it came forth Fabulator Ludus© the player-teller, destined to plot about One’s many paths singing songs of sublime works formed by serendipitous stumble.
Happy with this imperfect creation, One was eager to hear her innumerable tales. That she might know the full extent of Self and Soul.
Ripe she readied to set them adrift in gated legions across the sea of her many jeweled splendor.
Rather than put her creation at the end, One started them somewhere near the beginning, sending its many vessels sailing about the eternity of creation.
So began the telling.
Fabulator Ludus © 2010-2015 Stephen E. Dinehart IV All Rights Reserved