In the beginning was the dream. In the eternal night whereno dawn broke, the dream deepened. Before anything everwas, it had to be dreamed. Everything had its beginning inpossibility.
Every single thing is somehow the expressionand incarnation of a thought.
If a thing had never beenthought, it could never be. If we take Nature as the greatartist of longing then all presences in the world haveemerged from her mind and imagination. We are children ofthe earth's dreaming. When you compare the silent, under-night of Nature with the detached and intimate intensity ofthe person, it is almost as if Nature is in dream and we areher children who have broken through the dawn into timeand place. Each day we livein what we call reality.