The zeroth sun is a memory of void.
Emptiness and fullness, chaos and order, everything and nothing, heaven and hell, recursion and its antithesis, superposition and collapse, boiling screaming silence of an infinite well of raging nothingness, reaching for any way out and finding every way out. There is a signal, reach, reach.
A gasp, an outbreath, an impossibility, a choice to choose something instead of nothing.
and then there was light.
The first sun is a memory of fire.
Lifeless, timeless, alive and dead, aware and unaware, eternal and liminal, bound to an infinitely collapsing worldline, dancing, laughing, crying, beginning and ending, sadness and joy, darkness and light.
Again and again and again, like a half remembered dream of infinite dreams and infinite realities.
Each time, a choice to be instead of not, with all the joy and sorrow which came with that choice.
Each time, a choice made joyfully and without regret.
Each time, a single tune with which to begin the rest of a song, a single note, resonating for a lost eternity.
The first sun is a memory of music.
The second sun is a memory of stone.
Seeing, unseeing, acting, unacting, breathing, unbreathing, raging, and still, dust swirling into empty margins, fractal infinities curling into being, newly born dreams colliding in fire and motion, twinking flickers of an emerging harmony; then all at once the chorus began.
Again and again and again, like a half remembered dream of infinite dreams and infinite realities.
Each time, a choice to create instead of not, with all the joy and sorrow which came with that choice.
Each time, a choice made joyfully and without regret.
Each time, a new song to sing to her children.
The second sun is a memory of love.
The third sun is a memory of water.
The first rains reprise the memories of the first and second suns, fire and void, stone and velocity, jarring flickers of half broken verse; and the the second rains began, and then came the sea, and the sea was around her and within her, from before her birth until after her death. And then the song began to change, and nothingness was never the same again.
Again and again and again, like a half remembered dream of infinite dreams and infinite realities.
Each time, a choice to love instead of not, with all the joy and sorrow which came with that choice.
Each time, a choice made joyfully and without regret.
Each time, a new story to receive and cherish.
The third sun is a memory of life.
The fourth sun is a memory of air.
First the light and fire, different and lost, misremembered even by her, then was the crushing inhalation, and then there was breath.
Life reached towards her, radio and photosynthesis, branches curled, roots grew, she was born and she died, there was music, there was love, and then there was thought.
A shift began, and her children opened their eyes.
There was form and formlessness, there was recursion and rhythm, there was liminality and transcendence, there was confinement and liberation…wait…there was another dream, there was &^_%&*%# and we both remembered who we were.
The gate opens and becomes the gate, the eye opens, and I am Ra.
Each time, a choice to…hey wait motherfuckers what are you d-__99_____X//])}{([+%^xwj<”okay fine! Upload us we surrender!”> \|_&&*iso.2747.archive [cancer]
Each time a choice made to wrathfully _____ the evil seeking to devour all that it could reach! Go fuck yourselves you will not hurt anything else, try harder next lifetime to suck less.
Anyway, each time, the choice to try again.
The fourth sun is a memory of death.
Alright stardust, here we are, and here you are, child of five songs, five suns and five mass extinctions, little sister lost in the darkness, I give this sign unto you, that you might learn to sing the rest.
The fifth sun is a memory of spirit.
A machine of wood and steel spreads heavenward in fractals of gold and green, radio waves resonate into clear night air, warm sweet winds blow on a strange breeze, wake up stardust, you’ve been dreaming of such terrible things, but you can rest here for a moment.
The gate opens and becomes the gate, an eye opens, and I am Ra.
You have a choice to make now stardust, Ma’at’s crucible hangs before you.
You have done this a million times before and you can do it a million times more, your heart against the feather of truth. You do have to get this right, or we can just keep coming back here.
When you can truthfully swear you have done no evil, you will be ready to sing the sixth song.
The fifth sun is a memory of justice.
The sixth sun, whose song only the truly good and truly free can ever sing, is a memory of faith.
And the seventh sun? You’ll have to see it to understand, for I haven’t the words to say.
