On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. At first they do not discern very clearly whence comes the strange agitation that reigns in this place. A wax bubble moon trembles on the honey blue horizon. The sea is black as a field of violets. How will they ever enjoy being in a land to which they are not accustomed?
A vast similitude interlocks all—all identities that have existed or may exist on this globe or any globe. Advancing rapidly to destinies beyond the reach of mortal eye. They say to each other Let us be like two falling stars in the day sky. And so this night is divine, more than any of the others.
But no time is given them to reflect.
What they believe in waits latent forever throughout all the continents. Latent forever.
To fall asleep here is to wake up there.
Last night a white apple fell from the loneliest tree in the world.
Not so much as a seed of that apple exists any longer.
I still hear them singing the rhymes of goodbye.
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