This continuity of frightening dimension.
A single line, unbroken,
that runs through, not only the entire universe,
but eternity as well.
The hand touches the flower which touches the earth
which touches all other objects on earth
which touch the sky
which touches the sun and the stars and the galaxies
which touches God which touches infinity which then touches the flower again.
Nowhere is the line broken.
Nowhere does it do more than thicken or thin.
And, since it is not seen, but lived,
we are everywhere on it at once.
We are the line as well as its parts,
its pasts, its presents, its futures,
all the infinite forms it my take
sequentially and simultaneously.
Call the line "time" and it moves and remains
eternally the same.
Call the line "space" and all its extensions
resolve themselves in a single point.
We are everywhere, through we have not moved a step.
We are all things, through we have never left ourselves.
We are all times, through not single second has passed.
We are whole.
And it is only the breaking of this whole,
the first choice, the first seam, the first percept,
the first word,
that cast us into separation again--
and death.