If creation is the poem of the universe, I am but a speck of ink upon its page.


What is the universe but "one verse," one song of love? For it is when love flows most strongly I feel the interconnectedness of all things. It is as if beneath, around and within our reality, it is love that is the creative force, the energy, an intricate, chaotic yet synchronized beating heart of life. That's the way the universe feels to me - a silent song of pure love shining as bright stars in the night sky, the perfect tone that gives birth to spacetime and matter, the voice of God.


Every moment is a new one waiting to happen and ones that are happening. Space is a wondrous reality. With each beat of our dissipating hearts, passages to untouched places are paved. We’re not bound by this world nor are we bound by fear. Nothing binds us to anything but the very idea of things being linear. The skeptic conception of things. A spaceship and a black hole, disassembly or comprehensive discovery? Einstein is not me nor am I him but it doesn’t take a genius to speculate on the possibilities of the great spacious sea that is our universe…just as an artist.

Earth feels like a sandbox full of fire trucks and rubber ducks. Here is where we operate as we do and expand as we are. But out there, in the vastness of the dark region of infinite potential, we could succeed beyond the bounds of any boundary. Let us not be the leaf atop the water but the penny at the bottom of the pool. Curiosity always seeks the penny.

By Erin Nanson, April 10, 2015*.
Science / Time Travel

The universe beyond the interface, the barrier that limited humanity to one time and place, was like DNA. It was a spiral that stretched onward until it coiled about on itself, like some fractal pattern on steroids. Were human-kind still constrained by time it would be a simple spinning disc, just like the milky way we'd always seen.

Should this spiral spin fast it would appear as a simple disc, a ball perhaps, one ever expanding. Yet as the circle shape expanded, some would float into space as a loose string, like the string of a balloon, ready to be cast off. The strings were released to prevent devolution within the ring, not simply of matter but of spirit also. As we watched it grow, watched it cast off what was no longer required, we knew we were looking at a living universe, one that self regulated to only keep in what was good for the whole. Perhaps the double strands were parallel universes, never intended to mix, yet they belonged together, needed one another. All we had seen for millennia was like a cross section of a candy cane.

Yasmin sighed and looked at the bracelet on her arm, the silver beads alternately separated by tiny blue kyanite "drops." She wondered if there was indeed a level of the universe beyond this one. If this DNA-like circle was truly spinning, how would she know without a reference point? In which case the next level up could resemble the bracelet on her arm, each larger part of the universe separated by something different that kept them isolated and safe. She touched her fingers to the beads and turned back into the space-cruiser, resting in her hammock between the trees.

By Angela Abraham, @daisydescriptionari, November 16, 2015.