Before the beginning there was silence.
There was no song. No whisper. There were no hues of blues and greens, no blends of color, no child’s laughter and no aromas, no yellow flowers, no buzzing black bumble bees, not even red sky at dawn. There was no fire and there were no rhythms. There was no work, no ice cold drink on a hot day, no flow to the center, no far and no near, for there was nothing to be measured. There was no structure, no system, no birth and no moonlight dancing on the evening tide. There was no bitter and no sweet and there was no breeze on the face. There was no texture, no form and no early morning fog. The darkness was not black for there was no color.
But there was hope. Hovering there in the silence was the One.
The One was Spirit. He was the Uncreated. He was in the silence not for one day, nor for one trillion years. The Uncreated Spirit simply was. He was in the silence of the endless deep.....
