When we come at last into this world with all its woes, we weep, for we have lost our heavenly home and are without consolation. We would tell of all the wonders we have witnessed, but before we can reveal these mysteries, Lailah touches us with her fingertip, just above the upper lip, like a potter presses clay. Thus she leaves a mark upon us, an imprint that seals the vow to shroud our visions of the place from which we come and to which we shall one day return. We keep this pledge to her by forgetting what we have witnessed for all the days we walk the earth. But as you can see, I bear no mark from Lailah’s touch upon my upper lip, no promise to this angel, and so I am not bound to silence and can speak of these hidden things to all the world. This has been both my benison and my burden.

I still see the tree, with its golden threads woven through the bark, and the souls in infinite number trembling upon its branches like shimmering leaves in a summer breeze. I remember all. I am Jeshua, and this is my beginning.

Thought of the beliefs we profess and knew they were all the same. Each of us reaching for the summit, reaching for the same blessed state. The peace, the power of love that I found in my dark retreat is what I shall teach to others, for how can I keep the fruit of my revelation hidden from the world?