Just as the boundless sky remains untouched by the clouds that appear within it, so too does the supreme consciousness retain its pure nature, even as the objects of the world arise within it. All things emerge from this consciousness, just as waves rise from the ocean; yet, in truth, the separate existence of a wave is as unreal as the horns of a hare. It is always the water alone. In the same way, consciousness appears as the myriad objects, yet by its very nature, it is never lost or obscured. Therefore, there truly are no objects apart from it—so what, then, of the distinction between seer and seen? In a single instant, right after the illusion of death passes over a living being, the dazzling perception of the three worlds arises—yet this is but a fleeting appearance. According to the place, the time, the initiation, the sequence of events, the circumstances of birth—mother, father, lineage—according to age, awareness, location, intention, kinship, service, and the rise and fall of effort, the embodied consciousness imagines, "I am born," though in reality, it is never truly born. Along with this come notions of place, time, action, substance, mind, intellect, and senses. In the very moment after death, the body perceives itself as youthful once more, thinking, "This is my mother, this is my father, I was a child, now I am this." Whatever sequence is woven from memory, whether experienced or not, arises in due course for that being, just as a fruit appears from a flower. All of this may be felt to pass in a single blink of an eye; yet for King Harishchandra, a single night stretched on for twelve years. For those separated from their beloved, a single day becomes as long as a year. Thoughts such as, "I died, I was born, another is my father," occur even in dreams. Even for pleasures not yet enjoyed, the thought of enjoyment arises; and when enjoyment has occurred, the sense of having missed it may still appear—such is seen among gamblers and the like. Emptiness can seem full, adversity can appear as celebration; separation and gain are experienced as equal in states of intoxication, dream, and similar conditions. Just as sharpness is present in a tiny mustard seed, or as a pillar stands within a house, or as children weave imaginary webs in play, so too is this visible world nothing other than consciousness itself. For the one who is truly unborn and ever-peaceful, for whom could there be bondage or liberation, and from where would they arise? Worlds appear in an instant after the illusion of death, just as all forms arise to the living when the eyes are opened. These worlds are composed of directions, time, measurement, space, nature, and action—countless manifestations that endure until the end of a cosmic cycle. Even things not experienced or seen can become memories in a moment, just as one remembers having died in a dream. Thus, this endless illusion shines in the sky of consciousness, and the city called the world is but a projection, a mirage without walls. The sense of "I," the experience of the world, and the memory of creation all arise from the repeated habit of imagination and its reversal. Knowledge, therefore, is twofold: of what is experienced and what is not. At first, it seems to be the cause, but in essence it is consciousness alone that operates. The state of having experienced does not arise in relation to what has not been experienced—just as one who is not a son does not remember a father, whether in dream or illusion. Sometimes, even without the state of memory, a mere appearance shines forth—first as the form of the Lord of creation, then in succession as all else. O gentle one, this universe, beginning with the three worlds, remains as a memory for some who have experienced it, while for others, it does not. For some, it appears merely as an appearance, with no recollection, because the rulership of the atomic consciousness arises, as by chance a crow might meet a palm fruit. That which is utterly forgotten as the seen is called liberation; in that state, there is neither the desired nor the undesired for anyone. Without the attainment of absolute non-arising, as long as the sense of "I" and the world persists, true liberation does not arise. The illusion of a snake in a rope, though always of the nature of non-arising and peace, does not cease as long as the association of the word and meaning "snake" persists. That which is only half-quieted is not truly quieted, for another disturbance arises at the end of the first, even for the wise, upon contact with something else. This worldly existence appears to be substantial and ultimate, but upon investigation, it is found to lack any true cause; whatever appears here, disappears as well. In the creation of the forms of the Brahmin and Brahmin woman, memory is said to be the cause. But how could memory arise without something to remember? There, the memory of the Grandfather Brahmā is the cause, and his own memory as well; but previously, it cannot exist, for the previous birth was liberated. Before, there could not possibly be a memory to recall; yet, because of the very nature of consciousness, the state of being born from the lotus arises. Another lord of creatures arises, thinking, "I did not exist before," just as, by coincidence, someone appears, made only of a flash of awareness. Thus, when the world arises, nothing ever truly arises at any time; what is called "arising" is merely established in the sky of consciousness. The supreme state is the twofold cause of this memory; the relationship of cause and effect is only the one sky of consciousness. The existence of cause and effect is due to auxiliary causes; the unity of cause and effect does not cease because those causes are absent. Know that this is the form of the great consciousness; awareness arises from recollection. The relation of cause and effect here is only apparent, so the words we use are not truly real. Thus, nothing has ever arisen—not even the visible world or the threefold universe; consciousness-space remains established in consciousness-space, only within itself. "Ah, indeed, O Devi, you have revealed to me the supreme vision: the beauty of forms in the world shines like the radiance of dawn in the light of seeing. Now, as far as I am matured in this vision, without further repeated practice, O Devi, dispel this curiosity of mine.