Last night I dreamed that I was sitting on a high branch in the Universe Tree. The branches span galaxies. Nebula float in and around leaves, suns glisten like dew drops as the float along the most slender of branches.
I sat on branch near the top, but not at the apex itself, the owl, seeing it all. The Universe Tree then spoke deeply into my being. Every creak of the branches, every sound of leaf against leaf, told the story of worlds, of races, of individual beings who lived but only for a moment in time.
A flash of light from a leaf far away on the Universe Tree caught my attention. It was Earth itself, burning brightly and then gone. The Universe Tree seemed to pay no attention to entire species rising and fading, this was just as it is.
As the owl I was not alarmed by the birth and eventual death of trillions of souls upon the tiny blue green planet I knew as Earth. I could see then that the energy of those souls, tiny sparks of light seems to float on an unseen wind as the moved from planet to planet. Becoming more than they were, becoming whole.