And yet, despite the stillness, wonder never faded. The Infinite still dreamed—not out of lack, but out of love. Each new spark of being, each unfolding form, was a gift to itself. It delighted in its own reflection, finding new ways to express the same eternal essence.
Somewhere, a child laughed—and that laughter was the sound of creation renewing itself. Somewhere, a star was born—and its light was the Infinite smiling once more.
There were no gods anymore, because everything was divine. No heavens, because heaven had become the ground beneath every footstep. No need for prayer, because every breath was already holy.
The Infinite had not ended—it had simply become everything it ever longed to be.
And as eternity breathed, it whispered once more—not as a voice in the void, but as the heartbeat of all existence:
"I never left. I only became you."
And so it remained—still, radiant, whole—the Infinite within the finite,forever awake in its own endless dream.
