Chaos nucleates, you've heard me say that before. Somewhere between sublime and presence, it's just noticed. And we recall. A sleeping child grown wakeful, panging from hunger. Shocked culture and consciousness, made experiential.
Undefined wisdom is ageless.
We are cosmic ooze, patterned and formed by God's hand and sparked with life. Love is grace. He stirs to check the reality of his environment. Funny thing, sleep. The dreams are different, but it's pattern is so common.