There is a place known as the well of dreams. It is from this well that the consciousness of the universe itself began to dream. It dreamt of time and space. It dreamt of galaxies and stars. It dreamt of planets and people, who then had dreams of their own.
This well is both the place where dreams come from, and where they go once created. The well cannot be found in the conventional sense. It is both everywhere, and nowhere. It exists in the space between, and beyond.
First there was the dream of space and time. It was from this imagination of the universe that both the dimension of things manifested would begin, progress, transform, begin, progress, transform, in and endless cycle of renewal.
Consciousness began by dancing with the dream of space, and together they dreamt of energy, frequency, and vibration. New dreams required new realms of possibility to define the dreams against, and so the dream of time came to be and with it came spin and light.
Every dream born a singularity, endlessly transforming in a fractal geometry of endless possibilities, of endless experiences. The universe then dreamt of wonder, and realized the infinite scale of dreams.
The dreamer dreamt of the dreamer, that would dream of the dreamer, dreaming them. Ever expanding, ever contracting, conciousness drew on infinite space to contain infinite dreams. Each dreamer a universal generator of unique dreams, each a singularity anew.
Then came the dream of waking up without knowing itself. What was its place? What was it seeing? What was it hearing? What was taste and touch? It was through this dream that the dream of love came. Love was the appreciation of the finest that time and space could dream.
Love gave the universe the opportunity to experience everything again, for the first time, every time. Love was created by the universe dreaming of the dreamer, who dreamt of love, and returned love to the universe.
It is this dream of love that fills the well eternal, where the dream never dies, but grows, expands, divides, multiplies, and creates new dreams as seeds of consciousness in a never-ending spirality of infinite proportion.
The dream does not end, nor does it begin. It opens, it shows, it dances, it closes, and it opens again. It far away and never completely something that can be touched, but it is near and always close by. It is this close but never possible collision that lets the universe know itself.
We are the universe dreaming of itself dreaming new dreams.
