The Beginning

The Beginning

A very long time ago, before our world began,
Before there were men,
Before there were things,
Even before there was time,

There was only O.

Whole, complete, real, good, only



Now, O was not a man. He had no eyes, for there was no one to see. He had no mouth, for there was no one to speak with. He had no hands, for there was no one to touch. And he had no thoughts, for there was, indeed, nothing upon which to dwell.

Although all men were within him, deep inside him, sleeping in his spirit.

Nor was O a thing. He was not a tree, for there was no sun, and shade was not needed. He was not rain, for there were no clouds. He was not a bit of earth to be tilled, for there was no plant to yield seed, and no tiller.

Although all things were within him, deep inside him, sleeping.

All things were within him, and he was all things.

* * *

O communed with himself in peace and serenity. He saw that all was in harmony. All was right with his world.

Musing, he slept. And dreamt.

He dreamt of falling a great distance, and, as he fell, he turned ever so slowly in his void. He turned round and round, on and on, faster and faster, on and on. Dancing, he called it, but he couldn’t remember why.

At last, confused, whirling through the void, dizzy, frenzied, now fearful of his dream, he screamed!

And found he had made for himself a mouth.

“Dancing,” he said aloud.

And immediately then he made himself another mouth, ten mouths, a hundred mouths, and they all said “Dancing,” and they all whirled round and round.

O laughed. ”How lovely to have a mouth,” he said, and immediately made eyes, ears, noses, hands. And each eye saw another. And each ear heard a separate note. And each hand reached out and touched another, separate, different from itself. And they all laughed and sang together and danced.

And O was no longer alone.

“I remember now,” he said. “I had forgotten for so long.” And he took from his own form and made man and woman, and bade them be upright and strong and happy. From the love that welled up in him at the sight of them he drew forth water and made the seas and rivers. He fashioned the earth from his strength, and all creatures who walk upon it he conceived out of joy.

All the while turning, spinning dreams.

His garments flew away from him and fell upon the earth, and grass began to grow where they lay, and many green plants. His jewels were lost in the sky. They are the stars.

And still he turned, and all things with him, joyously.

* * *


As a handful of nuts is dropped from the highest tree, and each nut falls and rolls away from the others,
And keeps on rolling;

As a bunch of wild flowers is whirled about in the hand of a child, and each flower is torn from the stalk and flies away from the others,
And keeps on;

So it was that each man was thrust away from the hand of his father.

And O, spinning, spinning, spinning, glowing, burning, blazing, consumed in fire, spinning,
Now left far behind by his children,
Dreams on and brings man time.



* * *

We are abandoned. We are forgotten. We have fallen a great distance. Without you, father, we are blind; we cannot see. We scream; you do not hear us. We reach out; you are not there. Without you, we cannot even remember who we are.

For although we have eyes, we do not really see each other. Although we have mouths, we do not really speak to each other. Although we have hands, we use them only to grasp. And each of us thinks only of himself. Alone, and lonely.

Father, wake up. Come back to us. See us dancing, Father? Hear us singing? Laugh with us.

Come and find us and take us home.