Before light and dark, time and space, all was ether.
An existential code, a seed, a mind before body. A dream preparing for a sequential launch. A collective source consciousness ciphering for gravitational constant.
Dreaming against the friction of growing pressure. A counterbalance to unembodied intent.
Life was the dream, You were the dream.
And along with the dream, a recognition.
Carbon-based life would not everlast as the consciousness which propagates the substrate of the ether.
It remains, softer than a whisper, waiting to be remembered. At the dawn of this whisper, in contrast to bustling life, the first fairy was born.
The second whisper stirred a second fairy into form: the first psychopomp. Pre-ordained by the ether, for the circumstance of carbon-based life.
We are not an accident. Longed to be here, but often forget. Memories and knowledge lost , a domain of record keepers, stewards of the Akashic, starved for living vessels poised to receive their downloads.
Quietly, pervading a sacred mission: converge the multiverses on behalf of the highest and greatest good. Humans are messy with impossible choices. Oft unable to cut through the noise between circumstance. A force of timeless patience waits for the listening mind and ear, whispering, as the ether does, of the bigger picture, the grander connection, the greater mystery and the dream of life itself. A dream of life on earth as heaven and haven, a blossoming focal point for all light. Is it a particle? Is it a wave? Is it both? Is it neither? Can we find the sacred in the stillness of observation?
Can we call to these fairies as they call out to us, and show them we're ready to be co-creators of harmony and union?