I looked out, introspected, and interacted. The vacuum of contrasting content in duality, was spilling all over. A real mess. I decided to pick-up everything, and reorder each object neatly, in harmony.
Of course, it was too broad and complex a task, so I summoned imagination and with her on board, time became perpetual.
Everything had to be collected, counted, dusted, folded and stored in phases, as the stage was cleared, and the slate cleaned. I started with sand and dust, as they are such an endless problem for sweepers, and bare feet. It took me several eons to pick every grain, classify them in terms of shape, weight and composition, store them in airtight compartments and shelve them. But the job was done. Now, I walked all over and there no longer was sand on my feet, and the floors were oh so clean. Then, I went after bigger objects; rocks, all things loose that gave an unkempt look to scenery. Warehouses of them were filled up, as I removed all debris from sight.
Afterwards came living creatures. Microorganisms and insects alone were a formidable chore, as they reproduced so fast, that when I turned my back, to close the containing compartment doors, there were many, many more. But finally, the intent prevailed, and I had isolated all living creatures except people, heavenly bodies and points of view.
Points of view and people come together of course, but I decided to separate them for storage to avoid interference and combustion, while on that state of refurnishing. So, I painstakingly plucked them off from resistant minds, and folded them neatly and separately as argumentation, in a situation of animated suspension can be disturbing.
Eviscerated of point of views, all human individualities, peacefully and orderly were collected in the depository-nursery of in-between. (Used to be called limbo)
Last task were the stars. That was also hard. They had to be plucked one by one from the space mantle, gently placed in dark velvet sacks, and stored in dark rooms, so they could rest their light for a while. It took me various eons and then some more, to collect them all, from all time zones, from those birthing after the big bang, to the newer generations. I think it was Alpha Centauri, the last one that I plucked, before restoring absolute darkness to space. Then I grabbed the space blanket, by its expanded extremes of curvature, and shook it hard to remove cosmic dust, dark matter and dark energy, and all other particles of disarray.
An inconceivable, indescribable nothing ensued. There was no dark or light, no conflicting points of view between a me and a you, no lover-beloved qualms or ecstasies, no noise, no song, even silence was beyond itself.
There I was alone again, forever like ever. Lastly, I folded imagination and her time-space portfolio, with all the vaults containing everything, and I put it in my nowhere pocket as only nothing was there.
But in no-time, I exploded again; imagination could not be contained, being my own whim. Everything went back to its exact place, as then I realised that it had been all perfectly arranged, that sweepers needed sand, as much as little girls that write their names on the beach, that conflicting points of view, give peace a chance to be experienced, that selfishness is the field where love grows selflessness, that darkness and light are an inseparable couple, that make the dances of day and night, of depression and illumination, that paradise is found continuously through the interplay of the One Beloved with its many lovers in the contrasting struggles of life.
Imagination cannot be contained, not even by me, as it is my original whim, my original sin, it is what makes me be this bliss of Infinity. It is the engine of contrasts and chaos, that generates the exhaustion of the turning wheel, that engenders the yearning to love, and enables the lover and beloved games, that makes me consciously eternally of myself.