No one knows from when or for what reason these endless cycles of creation have arisen, for they are ever coming and going, their origins shrouded in mystery. Without beginning, they ceaselessly arise and vanish, like waves upon the ocean—each new formation following after what came before, and that too after another, in an unbroken succession. The hosts of gods, demons, humans, and all other beings continually emerge and dissolve, just as the patterns of waves form and fade on a flowing river. So too with all the classes of existence: their coming and going is as natural and ceaseless as the river’s dance. This cosmic egg of Brahma is but one among countless universes, each exhausted in their own time, passing away by the thousands, like reeds swept away in a stream over the years. Even now, beyond this city of Brahma, in the vast expanse of the Absolute, there exist others who possess bodies in the present. Many other glories of Brahma’s city have arisen in the past, and many more will arise in the future; all appear and disappear as fleetingly as spoken words. In the Absolute, other lines of creation will emerge and persist, just as pots are fashioned from a mass of clay, or as shoots and leaves spring from a single sprout. As long as water fills the ocean, so will waves be made of water; in the same way, as long as Brahman abides in the space of consciousness, the glories of the three worlds continue to manifest. Though these worlds appear vast, transformed, and splendid, when observed closely, they are found to be nothing at all—emerging and submerging, neither wholly real nor entirely unreal. They are inert, marked by qualities, slender and delicate like the stalks of the śevala plant, wave-like in character, their forms appearing only to vanish again. The countless worlds of creation display wondrous movements, marvelous transformations, and a dazzling array of forms and appearances. Yet, O Rama, all these visions of creation are not separate from the Supreme Lord. They belong to the knower of truth, just as rain is born of water. Creations arise from the Divine, just as rain pours from clouds; all are born from That alone, just as visions arise from light. Though these visions of creation seem distinct from the Supreme Lord, they are not truly separate, just as the spiky pods of the silk-cotton tree are not apart from the tree itself. Among these creations, O Raghava, some are excellent, others inferior; yet the Supreme remains untouched, affected only by the subtlest impurity of space. Sometimes, space itself first attains stability, and from it Brahma is born, the progenitor arising from space. At other times, it is air that stabilizes first, and from it Brahma is born. Sometimes, water attains fullness and from it the creator emerges; or the earth expands first, and from it arises Brahma, the lord of creatures. When the four elements are compressed and the fifth increases, then, moved by that force, the ruler of all performs the activity of the world. Sometimes, in water or air, or even in the greatly expanded fire, a person arises naturally from the element itself. From the mouth of this person, a foot may be born; sometimes a shoulder or back, sometimes an eye or a hand. At times, from the navel of this being, a lotus springs forth, and in that lotus Brahma moves—thus he is called the lotus-born. All this is illusion, a dream-like delusion, a wheel fashioned falsely, fickle and charming as a kingdom of the mind, lovely as the play of water. Inquire, what in this awareness truly exists, and how does it arise here? Otherwise, it is but a child’s fantasy being pursued. Sometimes, in the clear sky, colored by the mind’s own principle, a golden cosmic egg—the womb of Brahma—spontaneously arises. At times, this person emits his potency into water, and from that a lotus arises, which becomes the cosmic egg or the great principle. From this, Brahma is born; sometimes as the sun, sometimes as Varuna, or even as the wind emerging from the lotus. Thus, these creations, lacking internal unity and full of variety, have given rise to diverse origins of Brahma, O Rama. For the sake of illustration, I have described the origin of this one Prajapati; the birth of others, O sinless one, is much the same. This expansion of the mind is called ‘worldly existence’ by the wise; the process of creation has been explained to you so that you may awaken. Thus have the births, beginning with the sattvic, come about; this account of creation’s process has been given for your understanding. Again and again, creation and dissolution, sorrow and joy, ignorance and knowledge, bondage and liberation—all these repeat in endless cycles. The creators of creation themselves, sustained by the condition of absorbed affection, are like lamps that have given light: they are extinguished and arise anew. In the arising and dissolution of bodies, lamps, and even the gods themselves, when time’s dominion is relinquished, there is no distinction in their destruction. Again the Krita age, again the Treta, again the Dvapara, and Kali—all return in turn, as the world revolves on the wheel of time. Again the beginnings of Manvantaras, again the succession of Kalpas; again and again, the phases of activity, just as morning follows morning, day after day. Worlds and non-worlds, time and non-time, intervals measured and unmeasured—all this repeats, again and again, yet in truth, again and again, it is nothing. In the unstruck, heated mass—like sparks of fire within a lump of iron—these states exist perpetually in the space of consciousness, by their own nature. Sometimes unmanifest, sometimes manifest, all this exists in the supreme reality, like a tree appearing in its season.