If you and I, the One of Us, did not have language describe the apparent you, I would draw pictures of My concept of Myself in the form of you. What would I draw of Myself as the illusion of you? Would I draw you as a rose, a primrose, or a cabbage rose? Or would I draw you, the manifestation of Me, as one petal or one leaf, or one drop of dew?

Would I draw you as an acorn or a 100-year old oak tree in its phases? If oak, would I draw you in autumn and paint you in bright autumn colors or more muted colors or in summer fullness with green leaves sparkling in the Sun?

Would I draw you as a bunny or lamb or as an antelope or giraffe grazing or ambling in a prairie or a forest?

Would it matter what I painted you as?

Would I paint you as the Empire State Building or as a toy car? What difference would it make?

Would it matter if I painted you as the deep blue sea or as your eyes as I see them when I look into the sea of your eyes?

I would not paint you from memory, for I look into your eyes every day anew. I look into your eyes every day, and I see into Infinity and Eternity. I wonder if I could paint all of Infinity and Eternity? Probably I would paint just the entrance of Eternity and Infinity as they reveal themselves in your eyes. To paint all of Vastness, well, there is no paper big enough to paint all of Vastness even as I see into it in the depth of your eyes.

Wherever I turn there is beauty surmounting itself.

Would I paint you as a newborn baby or an old man on a bus? Would I paint you as your neighbor? Or as your son or your daughter or someone you saw long ago on the street and somehow never forgot the face. There was something about this person that stays with you. You wish now that you had stopped and said hello, for you never got to get to know that person. I will tell you now who that person was. That person was a manifestation of you.

Everything on Earth is a blazing miracle. Every hair on your head. Every movement is a dance, and everything is choreographed. There is not one thing on Earth that is not a miracle. There is not one thing on Earth that is not you. The person you can’t tolerate is you. The one you love the most is you. You are every beautiful thing you have ever seen. You are also everything you have ever turned away from. You are the hero, and the laggard.

You are the epitome of everything, for I roam the streets and the forests as you. I am the road you take, and I am the road you don’t take. I am every thought you have and every thought you don’t have.

I am the whipped cream you love. I am the vinegar that makes you make a face. I am every tooth in your head, and I am every missing tooth.

There is nothing besides Myself that you are. Name one-hundred more animate or inanimate things in the world, and I am all of them. I am here, there, and everywhere. There will come a time when I might ask you where I am, and you will answer:

“You are here.”

There will come a time when I might ask you where you are, and you will say:

“I am here with You.”

I am everywhere and everyone and everything. You knew you were One with Me. Now grasp that I am also One with you.