Meditation Proclimation

A beginning is dark.

Deep, velvety.

Life rises and falls in shadow. In void.

There is nothing to fear.

Born from chaos, we die there too.

In a continuum of space preceding order.

A gap. A crack. A yawn into existence.

All creatures submerge in this hibernation. Suspend animation.

Pondering...

the primal self,

the feeling self,

the darkness that is our sticky self-- and where we will return.

Not sterile ground.

No,

we are hot, and made of starlight now.