No sound, no wind, no moon, no stars.
There was only One.
He breathed in silence, “I am”
Who knows whence He came?
No thought, no desire, no creation. Yet.
“Yeah, I am”
If time had existed, many a million years would have passed.
But there was neither a past nor a future, not even a now.
In silence arose the first question, “Who is?”
The emptiness trembled in anticipation.
And then began Time,
A silvery thread of light speeding towards the endless edges,
Backward and forward,
And instantly there was eternity in the past and in the future,
Time wiping out the possibility of its own genesis.
He asked only the one question ‘Who am I?’
The question was Tapas
The questioner was Tapas,
The answer too, was Tapas.
In Tapas, He burned.
Out of that austerity, arose sacrifice.
With joy, He gave himself up.
The Father gives himself in sacrifice,
Like His son wouldst one day give his flesh and blood.
From Him sprang forth the worlds many.
Galaxies and gravity, mind and music,
All made from His own marrow.
In sacrifice, He became the many.
Cleaving His own heart, He breathed life into existence.
And today, we search for Him, the first-born.
“Where is He? Where is He?
When will He come, the King of Kings?
Do I find Him in the church, mosque or temple?”
The way back is the same.
Out of sacrifice is born austerity,
Out of austerity, the question – “Who am I?”
Dwell upon the primordial question for this indeed unlocks the door.
Behold the answer oh Prajapati,
Behold thine own face.