When all that was fixed or moving had dissolved into a single, boundless ocean, and nothing remained but the deep, silent waters, Brahmā arose—he who is adorned with a thousand eyes and a thousand feet. This Person, with a thousand heads, shone with golden radiance and was beyond the reach of the senses. He was called both Brahmā and Nārāyaṇa. In that vast expanse of water, he lay resting, the Lord asleep upon the waves. In time, as the quality of sattva predominated, he awakened and looked out upon the empty world. At this, the wise recite a verse about Nārāyaṇa: the waters are called ‘nārās,’ and he is their son; having filled them, he made them his own resting place. Thus, because he lies upon the waters, he is known as Nārāyaṇa. For a thousand fourfold yugas, he remained in the night of dissolution. When that night ended, he took on the role of Brahmā for the work of creation. As Brahmā, he moved upon the waters, becoming the wind itself. Then, like a firefly flickering during a rainy season’s night, he perceived the earth submerged deep within the waters. By his undeluded understanding, and as he had done in previous cycles, he resolved to raise the earth again, assuming a subtle form. The great-souled Lord, seeing the earth lost in the watery depths, conceived a divine idea: “By what form might I lift this earth? If I enter the form of a boar, well-suited for playing in water, I can do so.” Thus, unassailable by any being and composed of pure speech, known as Brahman, he entered the netherworld to raise the earth. Swiftly, the Lord of creatures approached the earth, now covered by the waters. He seized her and entered the waters as well. The rivers had merged into the oceans, and all gifts were carried by the rivers; the earth herself had sunk to the deepest recess of the netherworld. For the welfare of the worlds, the Lord lifted the earth with his tusk, bringing her back to her proper place and restoring her as the world’s supporter. Having upheld the earth, he released her as before; upon her rested a great mass of water, like a vast ship. Because the earth was supported by his own body, she did not sink. Lifting her up, the god established the world anew. Wishing to divide the earth, the lotus-eyed one conceived in his mind and, making the earth level, set the mountains upon her. At the beginning of creation, when the fire of dissolution had burned everything, those vast mountains had been shattered. Compressed by the wind and cooled in the single ocean, they were deposited wherever they came to rest, becoming the immovable mountains. Because they do not move, they are called ‘mountains’ (acala), and as they are heaped up, they are known as ‘heaps of rocks’ (śiloccaya). When these mountains were scattered in millions, Viśvakarman divided them again and again at the start of each cycle. Thus, he arranged the earth with its oceans, seven continents, mountains, and the four worlds beginning with Bhū. Having established the worlds, the self-born Lord Brahmā, desiring to create, brought forth the various beings. He created as he had in previous cycles; as he contemplated creation, so it came to be, formed by deliberate thought. Yet, at the same time as intellect arose, so too did that which is composed of darkness: ignorance, great delusion, and what is called tamas and andhas. This ignorance, with five aspects, emerged from the Great Soul; the creation that takes fivefold form belongs to the one who meditates with self-conceit. Veiled in darkness, covered like a seed by its sprout, without light within or without, this creation was inert and devoid of awareness. Because their intellect was shrouded and their senses were sources of suffering, these beings with veiled selves were called the primary trees. Seeing that this primary creation was ineffective, Brahmā, dissatisfied, conceived of another creation. As he contemplated, a crosswise stream arose, from which came beings who move crosswise—thus, they are known as the crosswise stream. These, beginning with cattle, are known as those who stray from the path. As Brahmā continued to contemplate, a sattvic creation arose. The third creation was the upward stream, established above; because it proceeds upward, it is so named. These beings are abundant in happiness and delight, luminous within and without, and are known as those born of the upward stream. Created by union with sattva, they are remembered as born of sattva; this third creation is the creation of the gods. Contented souls, radiant inside and out, these upward stream beings are celebrated by the wise. When the upward stream gods were created, Brahmā was pleased, and so he conceived yet another creation. The Lord, intent on truth, brought forth an effective creation, the forward stream. Because these beings move forward, they are called the forward stream. Abundant in light, yet mixed with darkness and dominated by rajas, they are full of suffering and act repeatedly. Humans, who are effective, are veiled both within and without. Thus, from the depths of dissolution to the ordering of mountains and the creation of beings in many streams, the Lord shaped the world anew, each creation following the rhythm of his contemplation and will.