In his trembling dirt-stained hand he held the first breath of the universe, the initial urge, the finite moment from which the shadow of the infinite had seeped forth.
His thoughts came like a torrent. Unable, was he, to quiet them. Had he come again to that distant doorstep that he had stumbled across as a young boy so many years or maybe lifetimes ago? Had he surrender all to awaken the divine spark? Was he here at long long last? Had he crossed the threshold of the beyond beyond and walked into the eternal realization of all things?
He was becoming untherthered. His thoughts, an ourbeourus, consuming the tail of the thoughts prior, growing in grandiosity. He had to narrow his focus, pin himself to the soft earthemn flesh opf the earth. Ground himself in something real, in something true.
But what was real? What was true?