O Rama, listen as the sage unfolds the mystery of existence. All forms that you see in this world arise from a formless seed—a supreme state that itself has no form. It is beyond all comparison, and no analogy can capture its true nature. Just as space appears only as space and not otherwise, so too does this world appear either as unborn or as born from the vast expanse of Brahman-space. When you perceive the visible world, you do not perceive yourself as the seer behind it all. Who, indeed, can grasp their own essential state when consciousness is so pervaded by the play of manifestation? If one were to believe the illusion of water in a mirage is real, what cleverness would that be? And if cleverness itself were truly real, what would become of the mirage? The witness within, pure and all-pervading like space, does not see itself—just as the eye does not see itself when it becomes the object of vision. Truly, what a wonder this delusion is! Even with effort, the Brahman—pure as space—cannot be attained, for when one clings to the visible as merely the visible, and not as the seer, realization remains exceedingly distant. Where something gross and tangible is not seen without attention, the subtle seer becomes even more remote, its visibility cast far away. The seer remains only as the seer and never becomes the seen; all that is seen is seen by that alone. Thus, O Rama, the seer is never seen. In truth, only the seer exists—there is no seen apart from it. If the seer is all, and the seen is established within it, what then remains to be seen? Whatever is accomplished, in whatever way, by an all-powerful king, so it instantly becomes; he alone appears in that form. Just as a barren tree, delighted by sweetness, becomes radiant and, without losing its essence, rises up with fruit, flowers, and leaves, so too does the living being, by the delight of consciousness, become embodied. Yet, it never abandons its pure consciousness, for it is made only of the vision of awareness. Just as the taste of the earth arises from countless, unique clusters of roots, so too does the sense of “I” arise from various delusions within one’s own consciousness. The trees of consciousness, radiant with the sap of awareness, are adorned with countless visible branches, yet their extent within the self cannot be discerned here. As each root individually savors the delight of taste within itself, so does this consciousness separately perceive the countless cycles of existence. Whatever form of individual existence arises, in whatever way, from the power of life, that very state is assumed by consciousness within itself, thus establishing the existence of worlds and beings. Some cycles of individual existence dissolve into one another; after wandering in the world, they eventually come to rest after a long time. With this subtle, supreme vision, you can see your own self, as well as thousands of networks of worlds, even within the smallest atoms. Just as oil exists in every sesame seed, so too do the marks of worldly existence exist in a wall, in the sky, in stone, in flame, in wind, and in water. When the mind attains purity, the individual becomes pure consciousness; and since that consciousness is all-pervading, there is a mutual merging—no separation remains. The long, great dream of the world, which fills all—from the lotus-born Brahma onward—with the illusion of individuality, arises spontaneously within. Some sequences of beings pass from one dream into another, and thus their perception remains firmly established in things like walls and so forth. Whatever consciousness imagines anywhere, that indeed quickly becomes so there; whatever is seen in a dream at that time is truly real for that moment. Within the subtle atom of consciousness exist all the minute experiences, just as within a seed are the tiny forms of leaf, vine, flower, and fruit. The supreme atom of consciousness holds the universe within itself, just as space is contained within space. Therefore, abandon the illusion of duality and unity. Consciousness, by its own subtle particles, experiences within itself the distinctions called space, time, action, and so on—for one atom cannot experience another. The cluster of conscious atoms, both all-pervading and clear, is experienced as the body by all—from Brahma down to the smallest insect—according to their own perception. Here, only a little seems to be formed, but in reality, nothing at all is created. The supreme atoms of consciousness themselves taste their own nature and duality. The radiant body of consciousness, composed of subtle atoms, shines forth by itself, pouring out the delight of awareness through the gates of the senses such as the eyes and others. Some perceive other forms externally as dense masses of consciousness, for consciousness is all-pervading, indestructible, and the seed of all that is seen. Others see the entire world within, without any division; and there, by the calculation of time, one rises and sinks. There, seeing one dream after another, beings are tossed about in false realms, like a stone fallen from a mountain peak. Some are closed off, some remain in confusion within themselves; yet, immersed in their own awareness, the clusters of embodied beings shine forth. Those who perceive inwardly the commotion of the world and living beings—among them, some see it as unreal, like a dream. Because the nature of all is universal, what is seen is true within oneself; wherever the all-pervading exists, there everything arises. Within the living being, in the midst of the appearance of creation, the cluster of living beings rises up strongly, and within that, another also arises. Within a living being, another living being arises; within that, yet another lives. Everywhere, like the layers of a plantain leaf, the seed of life continues to sprout. The growth and decline of perceptual understanding occur together, endlessly; just as gold takes the form of ornaments, so too, through mere conceptualization, does it cease. For one in whom inquiry does not arise—“Who am I? What is this?”—the long delusion of the fever of life, unbounded by beginning or end, persists. But for one whose discernment has matured and whose understanding is established, the craving for enjoyment diminishes day by day. Thus, O Rama, the sage reveals the wondrous play of consciousness, its self-manifestation as worlds and beings, its endless cycles and dreams, and the path by which true understanding dawns.