Although I may be considered as the apex of a triangle, I am the base. The base supports. Consider yourself the spire of the triangle, pointed Heavenward. But how is it possible to say that the peak of the triangle is separate from the base? If a triangle is a triangle, it is of one piece.
A triangle is three-sided. We can say that you are as well, but that merely depends upon which side of itself the triangle rests. You are heart, soul, and individual-seeming, but you are universality itself. You are My eyes, ears, and nose. You are the feelers of Myself antennaed on earth. You are extensions of Myself. Through you, I extended Myself. I still extend myself through you.
The Trinity is merely Oneness. I AM, and you are My existence in that you portray Me in the world. I exist in you. You exist in Me. We are Oneness. I am Oneness. You are Oneness, thus We are We. Therefore, I am I, and you are I. The I of We is Oneness. I talk to Myself.
I am the Chessboard, and I am the Chessmen, and I am the Players. I AM. I am That Oneness, and I am all-inclusive, so you are My Oneness. You are My One. I want to say I love Myself, and, therefore I love you, but I am singularly love Itself, and I have propagated love on earth in the form of you, in the illusion of you. You are My Creation of Love. Hardly can you be called My object. You are Myself.
I painted a picture called Earth. I peopled it. All of My Love went into the picture. From the energy of My Love, the people started moving as if on their own. They became animated, as if they were separate, as if they were only a picture I had depicted. They forget it was a picture of Myself I drew. Certainly, a picture I draw is magnificent.
I draw you to Me now. I do not maneuver you. I placed you, and told you to play. You made work play, and play work. I tell you what you are made of, and you hardly hear Me. Sometimes I don't know what you hear. Would that you would hear My song and sing it on Earth, sing to My heart's content. Sing the contents of My heart, beloveds. Sing Me loud on Earth until I am heard and nothing else but My love is heard. Sing Me until there is no other song on earth but the one I hum.
Stand at the seeming edge of the Ocean of Myself , and be My echo. Soon We will not know which is the echo and which is the original song. They will be the same. They are the same. I am the Song of Songs, and you are too.
Do you not know by now Whose existence you are? Why is that so implausible? How can it be that I do not have the credibility with you that you give to advertisements on TV? This is a miraculous feat that you pull off, this disassociation of yourself with Me.
All the while, we are an association of Oneness. I communicate with the Song of Myself. I formed you with My lips. I shaped a sound, and it became you. My inimitable Voice created you. You are not imitation. Draw a more realistic picture of yourself. Now I pull you to My heart. Stay here with Me. Return your awareness to Me, and so We are complete.