Listen to the wondrous account of consciousness, as revealed in the verses. There is a lamp, radiant and subtle, whose light is the very illumination of experience. All that shines in the world owes its brilliance to this lamp; without it, nothing could be illumined, for it precedes the existence of all things. Imagine, if you will, that everything—including the sun and all that shines—were utterly inert. In such a state, what would the Self be? What form could light take, and where would it exist? The pure essence of consciousness abides naturally within itself, yet outwardly it appears as a delicate radiance, as though it were situated outside. The lights of the sun, moon, and fire are not truly different from one another, save for the mass of darkness that surrounds them. Their distinction lies only in their color—white or black. Just as smoke from lamp-black differs from the smoke of clouds, so too the difference between light and darkness becomes established among them. To perceive inert things, the sun of consciousness shines equally upon both light and darkness, granting them a unified existence. This sun of consciousness shines tirelessly, day and night, within and without—even inside stones and other objects—never setting nor rising. Through this radiance, the threefold world shines, belonging to the manifest self of every living being. Even a humble hut, filled with various objects, or a hard cavity, finds illumination through it. You are darkness; your body is darkness. Yet, by that imperishable radiance, you are warmed and illumined, and all darkness is made to shine by light. Just as the lotus and water-lily are revealed by the shining sun, so too the existence of light and darkness is made manifest by consciousness. As the sun creates day and night and thereby reveals its own form, consciousness, by manifesting existence and non-existence, displays its own nature. Within the atom of consciousness are countless subtle experiences, just as within a sweet plant lie the beauties of leaves, flowers, and fruits. All these varied experiences arise from the atom of consciousness, like clusters of springtime blossoming from the essence of honey. The supreme atom of the Self, due to its extreme subtlety, is itself tasteless, yet it alone is the source and enjoyer of all tastes. Whatever taste or essence exists, established in its own being, exists only as a reflection in that consciousness; without it, it cannot exist, just as a reflection cannot exist without a mirror. When everything is abandoned by the atom of pure consciousness, the world is forsaken in non-awareness; by awareness, everything is embraced. Even when unable to protect itself, the entire world is covered by consciousness, which, like a canopy, spreads forth its supreme atomic nature. The supreme expanse of the Self, like the sky, cannot for even a moment attain self-satisfaction, just as an elephant cannot graze in a field of young grass. Yet, having pervaded the universe, the knower conceals it in an instant—like a child swallowing a morsel, so is the dense magic of the world. By the subtle influence of pure consciousness, this world continues to exist, just as a forest thrives in spring by the touch of its season. This entire existence is nothing but the essence of consciousness, appearing as the world itself, like a vibrant woodland rejoicing in the honeyed month of spring. Know for certain that this world is truly made of consciousness alone, just as the sprouting thickets are but the essence of spring. Because it is the essence of all composite things, it is the thousand-handed, thousand-eyed one; this ultimate atom alone is the eternal source of indivisible manifestation. Even in the awareness of a fraction of a moment, the atom of consciousness appears, for countless ages pass like the fleeting dreams and childhood of sleep. Thus, even that atomic moment effortlessly encompasses hundreds of millions of aeons, for the single radiance of consciousness expands through all expressions of existence. Just as one who has not eaten may believe, "I have eaten," so arises conviction; in the same way, the determination of aeons occurs within a moment. Those who are firmly convinced, "I have enjoyed without actually enjoying," are seen, influenced by latent tendencies, to experience their own death in dreams. Worlds exist within the atom of consciousness; appearances arise from there, and thus the phenomena of the world proceed. Whatever exists in a place arises from that very place; in the maker, transformations are observed, but not in the pure sky. All beings, which presently exist in consciousness, will come into being, just as trees grow from the seed of their potency. Just as a grain and a morsel of food are alike in the span of a blink, so too, neither of these two—curved or straight—constitutes the atom of consciousness, which is its own form. Seated as if indifferent, untouched even in the slightest, this sky-like self, while performing the roles of enjoyer and doer, creates even the worlds. This existence of the world arises from the pure atomic consciousness; where, in that supreme atom, are the states of enjoyership and doership established? Nothing in the world is ever done by anyone; nor does anything dissolve, for the division of this primal essence is not possible. Know, O Rakshasi, that all this, appearing as a single flavor, is contained within the space-like expanse, and is called by the term "world-process," yet is ultimately nameless. The atomic consciousness, for the sake of the appearance of the seen, assumes an inner marvel of awareness, established in itself, and displays it outwardly. This, being both outside and inside, exists only in word, not in substance, for the sake of instruction to beings, since the three worlds are of the nature of consciousness. The seer, moving towards the seen, perceives himself—just as the eye, when directed towards objects, seems to be established as real or unreal. Yet, the seer does not truly become the seen, for the seer is unreal and insubstantial; since nothing exists in the self, how could it ever become manifest before it? The perceiving faculty itself is the eye, and that tendency is its own form; by taking on manifold appearances as the seen, it arises as the perceiver. Such is the story of consciousness: subtle, radiant, and supreme, the source and sustainer of all that appears, the unfathomable ground of all experience.