We cannot speak of who, because their was no who when the sun was birthed. It is a product of the universe. Stars are born and they die; just like life on Earth. There is no doubt that new beginnings unfold thereafter.

Think for a moment, the big bang was a beginning and an end; the alpha and the omega, if you will. Time, as we know it, is a human construct, used by us to denote intervals of actions that we call events, in retrospect of their occurrence, if meaning is attached by us. Otherwise, we could call it an occurrence, or a happening; as events denote some sort of attachment to meaning.

The universe has no beginning or end; it is, I am, we are, us; and meaning follows the path of a person’s journey. It is a continual expression of that which is greater than everything and nothing, darkness and light.

It saddens me that we work so hard to find the words, but they flutter by as we attempt to describe something that can never be captured in written word, only breathed happily and solemnly, simultaneously.

We have tried so hard to erect edifices, deify men, paint pictures, speak poems, and dance to drums of tribes; in order to celebrate that which is greater than any one individual’s existence; one that we might grasp momentarily through means we create to honor It. It will always remain beyond depiction in our highly limited three dimensional reality.

The future is now; so let’s not be the people that didn’t understand that the Earth was not flat, or one of the people who never actually believed that it was round once it came into the full consciousness of humanity.

Lament all those who died a two dimensional death, when it was an obvious fact in time that dimensions are the divisions of men who attempt to understand; a momentary truth – always in flux, always changing and becoming.